Them beautiful days,
Those beautiful nights,
Them beautiful darks,
Those beautiful brights,
Them beautiful scenes,
Those beautiful sights.
That beautiful black,
This beautiful white.
Memories, memories, memories.
Them beautiful drops,
Those beautiful heights,
Them beautiful tears,
Those beautiful frights,
Them beautiful starts,
Those beautiful flights.
That beautiful hand,
This beautiful kite.
Memories, memories, memories.
Them beautiful talks,
Those beautiful fights,
Them beautiful wrongs,
Those beautiful rights,
Them beautiful stings,
Those beautiful bites,
Them beautiful dones,
Those beautiful mights.
That beautiful flame,
This beautiful light.
Memories, memories, memories.
Them beautiful frees,
Those beautiful tights,
Them beautiful dreams,
Those beautiful sites,
Them beautiful speeches,
Those beautiful cites,
Them beautiful words,
Those beautiful rites.
That beautiful horse,
This beautiful knight.
Memories, memories, memories.
Never be's, never be's, never be's.
Forever me's, forever me's, forever me's.
Melodies, melodies, melodies.
Tragedies, tragedies, tragedies.
Casualties, casualties, casualties.
Calamities, calamities, calamities.
Realities, realities, realities.
All but beautiful memories.
Beauty full, memories.
About the Creator
Muhammad Bayazeed
Faith | Inspiration | Expression | Love
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Confessions of an Empath
The birds are chirping, and the sun is shining in a cloudless July sky. The vibrancy promises a beautiful day, but the cooing of the Mourning Dove perched on the powerlines seems to be more fitting than the lively songs of the robin flitting through the trees. The melancholic calls of the dove cloak the world in a sadness that hangs like tattered drapes.
By Alyssa Nicolea day ago in Confessions
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