Live You or Die

-Lost passion-

Upon oak wood, a frozen glass.
Clattering of ice like thoughts clashing in class.
Eyes fixated to keys, withering mind like a useless mass.
Nothing sprung, nothing sung, just emptiness rung like cars through an overpass.
But fingers crawled across black stricken symbols, bold to create a thought into motion.
Yet, thoughts never seem to last.

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A mind is fickle as it battles the heart. A mere choice to sit or stand can change the mood of one's moment. As the mind says to sit, but the heart says to stand, to stand and overlook. To see it all like a king standing confident upon his castle's balcony. But overwhelmed is a consistency with the mind.

 Never truly deciding, always eager for hiding. Just to decide where to place thoughts and express emotion from the mind to fingers to letters set with meaning. Sometimes this, this is the hardest struggle of the day. To create and express just a single emotion, feeling, or love. It is no easy task to put the heart forward while the mind seeks silence. But chatters nonsense like a child. 

So much for one mind, but quitting is a weak mind’s eye. With each press of creation, of expression, comes a new rush. With each word comes a newly born note to the heart. With each decision comes emotion beyond the verbal noise that echoes from throats. Beyond a painting or picture hung in the most luxurious of galleries. Nothing holds a better tone than that of a final decision to take hold and go. 

To sit where a mind decides even against the most anxious of thoughts. Battling to become a great soul against all odds in an ever seeding battle. The heart the mind, fickle to where they wish to play and wish to stay. Nothing holds more true than those moments to sit still and let the river of words flow from fingertips to paper or from tongue to air.

 Nothing is more precious to the mind than making dreams a reality, words are a taste for the soul and mind. Expressing is nourishment for life. The tapping of fingers to keys upon a desk, the open expression of life, are beautiful, not to all, but to a true designers of life, they true beauty. It is like piano strokes spreading unrestrained off a pianist's heart in an empty room. 

Blessing each stroke with a new taste of life. Striking deeper and deeper with each note, each letter, each word. Playing like music in the backgrounds of one's home. Comfortable but adventurous without ever leaving the room. We are but creators of images from keys to an empty white sheet. Or an open book we wish to share aloud. 
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Be open with yourself, with those around you. Hold true to your passion, your dreams, your needs. Breathe life into yourself and those around you. 

What is something you have always wanted to do but haven't? 

What is something you've always wanted to tell someone but haven't? 

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