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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1791615
a prose and poetry together combined describing a woman (perhaps myself) in july
By exploring her beliefs and strength she came to realize that she was alone. While being alone no one cared to show her the path to the idealized harmony with society. However, she found a progressive harmony with nature. Nature seems to disobey her demands, while her desires were denied by the gods, she was left alone. Once again, loneliness did not seem a failure, but became a solace to aloneness. Had she found a partner she would have been reproducing, but creating was not in her gene, at least not for the meantime. Thus she decided to create the poetry in a language she has had been practising for few years.
Let thy misery be alone and never doom,
the loneliness of July captured within a room.
Now sing high with a great fortunate tune;
while celebrating the passing of the lost June
Never mention his last words to the divine,
For his love and passion were never to be thine;
mount the sky and cry for heaven to pass
thy tears to the summit and make a mass.
Be alone, a creator, to generate a last fantasy land
where nothing but thy desires to be in one hand;
while the other to hold a verse, lost in rhyme,
written with tears, but disguised to be thine in time.

While finishing her last lines with tears she looked up to the clouds and imagined a deep-red liquid falling down, but her imagination ceased after she folded the paper she filled with ink of poetry and store it deep into her pocket.
She had found another paper, and her ink was still full, thus she started composing the following:
Thoughtless thoughts with no feeling heart,
where passion seldom occurs in truth.

She paused, read it aloud and laughed. A drop of rain fell down on her forehead, another drop on her lips, another on her hand, two on the paper, and more others elsewhere and everywhere. She dropped the paper on the grass, got up and rushed for a shelter. The two lines were now buried in dirt and water, drawn deep into the natural wilderness of reality, and gone. When one is gone, it is wiped away from the real mind, until it returns.

-- July 5th
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