One never reaches home,’ she said. ‘But where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time.
― Hermann Hesse, Demian: Die Geschichte von Emil Sinclairs Jugend
Where the skies rain beauty,
Where the trees shed joy
And man bleeds greed,
Peace, we await your return.
Where destiny’s hopes
Are written in the cosmic fabric
For the sun who radiates dreams,
Fate, bless us with your mercy.
Where artists bleed on
Pastures and skies,
Magnifying life in crimson glory,
Love, be who you are.
Where souls are cleansed
With the morning dew and
Goodness reigns over one and all.
As we approach our disintegration into
Stories and stardust,
As we add a glow to our fading fantasies,
Home, here we are.
I live in my own little world. But its ok, they know me here.
― Lauren Myracle
-Introverted Thoughts aka D