Another stir of unconcquencial connections to my soul

Reflecting on a nights past, I feel pale and trashed.

Feelings, so sorrowful, so sad only wishing to feel a glade of glad. 

Feeling bad, feeling sad, only wishing not to be sacrificial lamb. 

Its all too straining, its all to deep a pain so complete. 

How to compete with a pain so true or to just a loud it all that is real and so not need to flight with its might. 

Though it is not the greatest part it is true and strong as stone and has been a friend when I needed it most. 

A Crystal of Amethyst I took hold. 

To weather a nights past is to say only something small fore its in the weeks past that tells a story of a life's past. 

So who is to say that it was all ok, and to portray what's most longing for a day past. 

She came in to my life and caused a fragrant stir. 

Her eyes glimmered with the glow that of pure innocence, like a crystal sparkling after a thousand years of solace and purity. 

Her presents caused whirlwind of cool and hot turbulence within my presents with the sweat of palms and the vulnerably of fear to which I hadn't felt in eons of despair. 

She spoke so soft with a sound I felt fare and I can not compare. 

Her present untold left sweet sorrow which never could unfold and no matter how much I would let it be told. 

These fortunes to which I was un-spared and have felt to observe and absorbed. 

O' sweet serenity. 

She left and couldn't be tolled of my silence was real and only to hold her wonder and beauty and keep it preserved. 

She was so real and I couldn't be fair because of where this life seems almost to much to which leaves me bear. 

So I think of the time we shared and hope that one day it will be clear, I will be glad to the glow which made life so grand. 

These fortunes to which I have found accrued.

She left and couldn't be toll of these fortunes with which I had felt and observed which felt so sure. 

She left and caused my life a stir. 

These fortunes to which I have found accrued. 

So I think of the little time we shared. 

In the past we live with all the shame and crystalized pressures of beauty impressed upon a soul.