There is a voice that begs movement from thy limbs, and smiles upon thy lips…there’s a voice that exists so you may exist…And if this voice were to begin pondering its existence? Or why it must ask thy limbs to move? What if like a bird it asked why it must fly, back against the blue morning sky? Such is the inner voice of the one depressed! It is not a fleeting phase of melancholy or despondency…it is a war against self! Victor and vanquished may suffer permanently and smiles may suffer the most as they are banished from the land. Noah_arkenswagg
It seems love is prettier the longer it lasts and wilder the shorter its existence. But to tame love while wild is the ultimate challenge…for civilised man has sought to understand its colour and strength, its vulnerability and anger…oh how love burns hot in the cold nights, putting one to sleep during the day with a smile one would ordinarily describe as silly. To define love is to define that which our hearts cannot understand, to regard that which is above our thoughts…imperfect man has only the option of being awestruck by it’s glow. Noah_arkenswagg
Scuttling through the dust of time, tongue poised to defend soft spots and cause havoc, this venom sure tastes of pain and laughter. With every taste of venom, we’ll both share in the sweet taste of pain.
Dear queen, you’ve shattered a heart of gold with a diamond smile. Throne of thorn, you sit as though on satin sheets… heart of stone, your warm hugs have made music of my glass ribs. The songs tell stories of queens and hearts, and so I wonder… was I the ace in your heart, or just a joker? Noah_arkenswagg
These things that I feel, I think I’m hard wired to. For if they do not run on electric circuits, then why are they called e-motions? There’s a spark in my eyes that won’t settle down, and my heart won’t quiet it’s thumping. Tingling sensations in my fingers, as my cheeks light up in a shade of red… these things I feel. I must be powered by YOU. Noah_arkenswagg
One half of a whole, one side of a coin, one part of a pair of interlocked hands, your name is all i have, for “sweet heart” and “honey” are easy to remember. Where are you? Did we already miss each other on this highway of life? Should I give up? Have you given up? Will we be? Should we be? A story untold. Noah_arkenswagg
Have you ever seen a pessimist smile? The paradox is hidden in the abrupt end to the smile and the heartiness that began it. They wear the unfairness of life as a suit of nails, bristling at the mere signs of positivity, unsure of the change and yet ever aware of the many games life plays. Noah_arkenswagg
Silence, land of whispered shouts and thundering tip-toes; my favourite place. There are many paths that head toward this land and its gardens; some are as peaceful as sleep, and some are as dramatic as sleep’s cousin…but whatever the path, this land is the green I’ve been searching for..the rhythm of music my ears have craved. Noah_arkenswagg
Too old to believe in fairy tales and wishes, too young to stop dreaming..the gap in between is where the screaming happens. Dreams keep me up at night, the fairy tales put me to sleep during the day; day dreams…tortured by thoughts in the filter shade of melancholy. Night or day? I guess my favourite moment is when the clock resets time.
Believer of promises, king of blushes, fool to the experienced… he who only sees honey where venom dribbles, and roses where thorns stretch out arms to kill. Your heart is glass in a world armed with hammers, your smile is the child age sneaks up on. Noah_arkenswagg