namwano

It’s a cold world around me. The chills that sting my fragile skin, keep my conscience awake to the seemingly never ending war between the lonely and the content, the bitter and the sweet, the silence and the clamour and the dark corners of the soul verses the little sparks of bright hope that long to be shone. There’s a beauty that is desperately being searched for by many- I see it, I sense it, I can almost touch it with the palm of my hand; a beauty apparently so distinctive that many give the impression to have a vague description of, but for some reason do not own it. There’s 'a beauty’ that seems to be out there somewhere, even I I’m yet to see, what everyone seems to be chasing after. Though with me lies inscriptions of ladies hearts on paper. Combined neatly and consistently outlining the recitation of lives they never thought they’d have until a period in time when it unfolded before their very eyes...            ...