late shale
Oh to sit by the great ye old lake, a fire now ablaze, a low quiet hum, sparks singing wildly, with some sparrows off awake. The trees would sway, leaves rustling enough for you to hear them, not enough to stay awake, you'd drown it out, uncanny as it is, but peace it still would bring you, because silence now horrifying this scene would make.
I'd like to sit there, with you or by my lonesome, no difference it would make, my focus wouldnt be there, this I know so why bother. The past would keep me company, we'd talk for hours without fail, oh how it'd keep me stuck there, until early hours of new days. I wouldn't complain, I'd rather try to cry, cause though the past may now haunt me, it always makes me smile.
To reminisce, to be with you, to sit there cold, till my fingers turn blue, to love nostalgia, the pain that it brings, to go back onward, and live it all again.
still pivot