Meredith

It's a beautiful tragedy.

How the wind works along with the rain, pushing the trees, and the rain itself, back and forth.

But if you look closely enough, it's almost as if the world is dancing.

Generation after generation, you'll always hear them say.

There's always beauty after a storm.

But what if the storm is the real beauty.

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You shoot me those looks

I can't seem to break free from

I am chained and locked

To your dark round bullets

Blessing dropping down

from the gloomy darken cloud~

The spring comes alive

your memory

intoxicates me

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These thieves on to my weather letter playing my tune with caution cause there not the author

And what to you to sit on moons I know the words I use and play is endless but your on the wrong side of

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The cold stare at the shadowy presence thru wooded forest where there is no exit holding on to holy methods was my only protection from these dark weapons.

That prey on lives to many while I'm carri

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There you were,

Just leaning in a frame by the trash.

Perfect and clean,

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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

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The city had withdrawn into itself

And left at last the country to the country;

When between whirls of snow not come to lie

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