Sometimes I feel a force. When light fades and shadows grow, the force pushes against my skull. Sometimes I let it go. I let the force flow through my hands, in the form of tightly gripped pens flying over paper, or swiftly typing fingers. Whatever the result, whether beautiful or ugly, proud or shameful, becomes an unforgettable memory.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 4:32am on Nov 05, 2024 via server WEBX1.