Another story
I really like writing this style.
He turns around.
Swearing he heard footsteps.
To find nothing but pure silence.
Cold silent wind sweeps the air.
His hat turned backwards.
His eyes face forward.
As his mind retraces.
While his heart fast forwards.
Screams of fear.
Tears of sadness.
He’s been on the ride.
Now there’s just unexpectedness.
He prays for more hope.
His passions ran dry.
His future is still in clear perspective.
But still not in clear focus.
Blinks over and over.
Try’s to wake himself up.
But it’s real this is here.
Puppies eyes brighten his day.
He smiles, but with no deep meaning.
Depression clouds his thoughts.
Fear can’t stop him.
Dreams won’t keep him asleep.
Aspiring will be his motivation.
Because with no inspiration.
There’s no creation.
