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"brad tate gives it up the chuff" - Angelicagates

Melancholy

  • Date Submitted: 01/20/2016 07:38 AM
  • Flesch-Kincaid Score: 77.3 
  • Words: 283
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Everything she touched turned to art. The air she breathed was golden and the people she gazed upon got lost in her eyes, whilst she was lost in thought.

The reason being, she found nirvana.

She thought she found nirvana. She was so confused and thought to call her confusion, that.

She was delusional and disconnected from the world. The lines were blurry, so she crossed them. The boundaries were unknown, so she got lost in unknown territory. Walking in a straight line only to find herself back in the same place.

Her emotions ate he up. Lachesism consumed her. She started to live in her own sorrow mistaking it for happiness.

While everything around her turned to art, she turned to poetry. A very sad and misunderstood poem.

She might have been misunderstood but she understood the universe. How nature works in harmony, composing the most beautiful music. She understood how if one thing die, other is born. That there are threads in our lives and how if you pull one, everything else is affected. How humans keep taking from nature without giving anything in return and how that will cause our extinction.

She was downright brilliant. Understanding more than the average man but, also leaving her with more questions. She amazed everyone and even the stars were jealous of the way she shone.

Her failure to communicate suffocated her. Keeping the universe within her caused it to implode.

She was music. She was art. She was poetry. She was the sun and the moon. She was all the stars. She was. She is no more.

With only the memory of her and no name to cling on to, she left.

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