Sweet Child of Me...

Trying to map out my life in my mind. Should try using more mapping (as in physical maps/cartography) than what I did. Enjoy

The light of the Sun, its first touch on my skin, as glorious as being held for the very first time by my mother. A wonder, just what those moments were like, what those days were for. A few glimpses in mind, a few I can see. I love that child, sweet child of me.

Now those days are past and the Sun is smaller than before and a wind picks up speed as we fly away from home. Far far away...Too late to return to
what was and what may never be again.

There used to be three and then there were two away from our home, away from our dreams, where we were always meant to be. Now one has left, yet to die to me, but I did not know, still a sweet child of me.

I dream, never a child should dream the dreams that I dreamed of terror and horror that that sweet child of me deemed to be reality. A child to be
cuddled and warmed, to be joyous and brave, not with the tears and the fears that swallowed my sleep.

Now I can see, the deep blue below as I fly, fly, fly to my home. Growing up fast, growing up slow; love to me could never be told, only be shown.
And I alone, as one, flying, flying to my home, hugging that which gave to me the second of the two.

What a short time back at my home. What should be eternity, days. Here in my home to find that I little by little no longer that child, no more sweet child of me. Guitars, bass and drums roared in my ears as gods denounced by immortals with long hair. As tyrants denounced by those with less steam.

Still, the sweet child of me, that is no longer, no more a child, found inspiration in sorrow and whirled for years alone, in silence and in known words, a world of despair. But when time for home came round love was found and when home was gone, the second of two was there.

That first love strange and short, but I, I dreamed of a new home, of a new form of three, only more. What sorrow, what sorrow crossed the land and tears like rain on that very first eve, but no more, no more, no more rain. Dark clouds covered the blue sky, but with lightning strikes dispelled!

That final time to be at home...oh what then had happened? Time after...and a second love came. This one sweet and how it came to be! Well marvel and wonder that the gods must be true! Under the sky where white crystals were spawning and the wind coldly passed by I said three
words...and so it was done.

This love another tragedy, another to end. This one with length, but time not enough, and kisses and embraces, never felt more...
Still this final epoch continues. No search for new. Realization. Love comes when it comes.

originally posted by: Tiamat384
Trying to map out my life in my mind. Should try using more mapping (as in physical maps/cartography) than what I did. Enjoy

The light of the Sun, its first touch on my skin, as glorious as being held for the very first time by my mother. A wonder, just what those moments were like, what those days were for. A few glimpses in mind, a few I can see. I love that child, sweet child of me.

Now those days are past and the Sun is smaller than before and a wind picks up speed as we fly away from home. Far far away...Too late to return to
what was and what may never be again.

There used to be three and then there were two away from our home, away from our dreams, where we were always meant to be. Now one has left, yet to die to me, but I did not know, still a sweet child of me.

I dream, never a child should dream the dreams that I dreamed of terror and horror that that sweet child of me deemed to be reality. A child to be
cuddled and warmed, to be joyous and brave, not with the tears and the fears that swallowed my sleep.

Now I can see, the deep blue below as I fly, fly, fly to my home. Growing up fast, growing up slow; love to me could never be told, only be shown.
And I alone, as one, flying, flying to my home, hugging that which gave to me the second of the two.

What a short time back at my home. What should be eternity, days. Here in my home to find that I little by little no longer that child, no more sweet child of me. Guitars, bass and drums roared in my ears as gods denounced by immortals with long hair. As tyrants denounced by those with less steam.

Still, the sweet child of me, that is no longer, no more a child, found inspiration in sorrow and whirled for years alone, in silence and in known words, a world of despair. But when time for home came round love was found and when home was gone, the second of two was there.

That first love strange and short, but I, I dreamed of a new home, of a new form of three, only more. What sorrow, what sorrow crossed the land and tears like rain on that very first eve, but no more, no more, no more rain. Dark clouds covered the blue sky, but with lightning strikes dispelled!

That final time to be at home...oh what then had happened? Time after...and a second love came. This one sweet and how it came to be! Well marvel and wonder that the gods must be true! Under the sky where white crystals were spawning and the wind coldly passed by I said three
words...and so it was done.

This love another tragedy, another to end. This one with length, but time not enough, and kisses and embraces, never felt more...
Still this final epoch continues. No search for new. Realization. Love comes when it comes.

Wow... Nice sharing!

a reply to: AnnaMaria
Thank you.