This rosy mortal illusion continued to be a consolation, for I knew that we had better purpose than this.

Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
This rosy mortal illusion continued to be a consolation, for I knew that we had better purpose than this.
Who knows anything about life? The human body is merely a mechanism. Life is electricity, running vital substance in these bodies.
It was the first decision she had made to determine the course of her life. Here and now, on a quiet bed of freedom she felt so free, so happy. This is up to me.
A curious mind wandered in thought past all distractions til they were carried away.
She looked wilder out in the water and sky. She was unexpectedly happy at that particular moment. She could not describe it. How perfect is the earth.
Look for happiness in the world.
Just remember that the abnormal mind is quick to know intimate revelations of infinite hope.
This book serves as my epigraph, a work of art turning other people's creative fictions into poems that explore life experiences.
Her life will be born in her poetry, even in obscurity.
Poetry lovers (and I am one of them) look for the flames the "mad" parts of life.