Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Happiness

So long ago

Happiness was born

Like the freedom that hangs low

In the iris of a storm


When the first thoughts conceived

In the chaos of your birth

What could your eyes believe?

In all that you are worth


The strands of time stretched

Breaking the common fate

Foreign symbols etched

Beauty in its current state


To shift another storm

Into the iris of two

Etching another form

And saving someone new

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