Micah Park Biffle

Waking To Magic I woke to magic, to stars falling, to the moon rushing with water, and the trees singing. I stood still for only a moment, before I felt my heart leap. It struck my ribs; pulling me forward. I took a step, and as I did, the world around me became animated. The scenery entwined like a dream.  Colors flew from my fingers like beams of light. Cliff sides swayed like grass in the wind. I reached out, I touched the moon. The water upon it's rugged terrain felt cool. I cupped it in my hands and I drank it. Upon the touching of my lips, my tongue, I became clouded in sorrow. But I could feel joy speak from these enchanted waters as well. As the water rushed down my throat; tears emptied from my eyes in silence. I knelt to the ground placing my hand upon the grass. As I did, it suddenly wrapped around my hand, but with a gentle displacement. It was as if it could feel my agony, like it knew my pain. I carefully pulled my hand from the grass and glided it ...

Rush, rush, rush, hurry, hurry, hurry. Our daily lives, so much in such short time. Jobs, errands, bills, relationships, assignment, due dates, dead deadlines. All this piles up and you're sweating from the stress. Everything feels like it will all come crumbling in. Your chest is suffocated with anxiety, your throat dry from the lack of hydration. Too busy to even notice you haven't ate all day. And for what? What is there to gain when busy is all you are and passion is lost? Imagination drain and action is used up on someone or something else. The eyes of a passerby and you think, "I bet they are having a better time than me." Its seems like when you catch up on one thing, its the next, exhausted by end day and you let that little voice. That tiny voice that tells you to relax, you listen to it. You relax, only to start everything all over again tomorrow. What is left when you have gave every hour to someone else, to something else? You think about w...

I cant be without you, I have found myself lost in thought. Lost in the missing of you, in agony of never hearing your voice. Remember those mornings we would wake, you would smile and I would smile back? We would exchange a kiss as if it was our last. Everything, felt as if it was in place. The world became an adventure, talking brought us excitement. We found joy in the smallest things. Like laying by the fire beneath blankets and talking about our past. Learning about all the stupid quirks we had as we end up falling asleep. We had so much together. Don't Forget to  Subscribe   But now, now I am broken, shattered by the thought of never holding your hand while we walk beneath the moon. I cry, never being able to sing to you, though my voice is terrible. I will never see the sparkle in your eyes just before you laugh, before we kiss. There was magic between us, something that could never be explained. You were music to my ears and paradise to my eyes. You were th...

-Life Block- I do not know where to go where to take my thoughts my flow  A barren river has a deeper soul   I have dream't but cannot see  like ghosts in day light my words are unseen  my fingers steady but my heart quakes  I don't know if I'll ever be awake my mind teeters on the swirling of a loose feather  I search with great intent among the coldest weather but every forest every path,  I come up empty handed, is this the devils wrath The dripping of words is usually my move  But the morning light has me a skewed My empty pockets without wage  ravages my thoughts like demons unholy rampage  I have no other no spark  My muse I have torn apart What am I but just a man  I am nothing special nothing grand  For true words would never be lost  I am ill to my thoughts, exhaust  Finding distraction and reason to sleep  But nightmares quill me dee...

Stars stare with sorrowed eyes through a small window as night embraces with its dark silk skin. A man sits alone behind cool brick and a window that sits too high. His hands, his feet bounded by heavy chains but he will not defy. His eyes buried by black rings, like that of a raven’s eyes. His face torn by the weather's harsh kiss and the burdens of himself as he brews to the unwise. His body thin to bone, weak from his suffering, he was once king. But now lay a false man, cut from his throne, by the ill speaking of a lie. Too long, he thought it best to bury to the sands of time. To let it be swaddled by truth as if to mummify. But seekers of the past will always find.  He knows no place hide as the moon beams high, sitting in the sky with a prying eye. As if waiting for the confession of a crime. Its blue flesh shines brightly given view to the man’s paradigm. But the man sees no joy in the light of the moon or the eyes of the stars. He only feels the pounding of his heart,...

This is a story plucked from my first book. It is one of my favorites that was inspired by a story a friend of mine had told about himself growing up. I thought you my like to see how my writings has changed from a year ago till now. Maybe you see no change, maybe you do. Let me know! And Thank you for reading!  His legs stretch just inches from the fire as it dances like Gypsies in celebration. Playing shadows across his face while his eyes prey upon the words in the book he holds in his tense eager hands. He holds the book so tight the blood ceases to make its way to his fingertips. Like ghosts his fingers shine between the shadows the fire molds, not once does he look up from his book or loosen his grip. As shadows play smiles and games across his face, across his body, across the entire area from which the flames embrace. The wind casts a mighty hand through the trees and the empty space that lie open between nature and flesh. The man never takes a second glance fro...

Hi again everyone, I wanted to start off by saying thank you for your support. Whether it be a simple like, a comment, or even a follow. I am deeply humbled by everyone's support and hope you are enjoying what I am putting out into the world to share. This is the first time I have been able to tackle everything I wanted to tackle, just about everyday. Some days its harder than others to keep going. But, then there is that little voice that tells me to keep going. And when it does, I think about all those who will possibly see what I do and draw inspiration from it. Its amazing a what a little hard work and perseverance can do for you and those around you. For too long I had hid my passion away because of what others might think of me, but no more. There is too much life in our passions and the things that bring us happiness to hide them. Life is unpredictable and we do not know how long we have to live. And I am sure you have heard that before, but I did not truly understand the ma...