much sorrow and sweetness I find in nights as this...
So the day has come and passed, my presentation for the preliminary investigation in my information systems project class. It really wasn't much of anything more than things that have passed before it. It wasn't super impressive as I thought, it wasn't even that harsh to do. It was over in what seemed a blink of an eye, and now I sit, alone, dark, in my silently howling room.
The walls wish to speak but find not the words to strike up a conversation; nor does the amber light seek to help ease the pain of the void. But is it even a pain- or perhaps a pleasure. I for one do not know. The door sleeps now, as does the lamp next to me, for it is night when all things sleep, yet I am abroad, far from such peaceful aspects, as i ponder what the night will hold.
Such lonely times are these, yet at peace in my own right I sit. Staring forever into wandering patterns in the deep abyss of this night. Cold and alone, but not chilled and far from pressed.
Sometimes the thoughts come to me at this hour, this hour which I know as the hour of crimson chasm. It is during these times when more often than not I lay back in the comfort of my personal chamber, in dismal contentment, blanketed in the mellow, conditioned glow of amber lamps on darkness. Nothing stirs here, except my thought, and daily pains as they slip from my psyche. Dwindling views of things pleasant and things loving melt as I succumb to visions of bedazzling dreamery
Come late, the glow fades as the amber drips into unconsciousness. The night for me is at an end here as moonlight wanes to morning.
...and a new day is upon us once again.
goodnight all, warm in bed. Tomorrow grows weak and today wins over in the battle.
The walls wish to speak but find not the words to strike up a conversation; nor does the amber light seek to help ease the pain of the void. But is it even a pain- or perhaps a pleasure. I for one do not know. The door sleeps now, as does the lamp next to me, for it is night when all things sleep, yet I am abroad, far from such peaceful aspects, as i ponder what the night will hold.
Such lonely times are these, yet at peace in my own right I sit. Staring forever into wandering patterns in the deep abyss of this night. Cold and alone, but not chilled and far from pressed.
Sometimes the thoughts come to me at this hour, this hour which I know as the hour of crimson chasm. It is during these times when more often than not I lay back in the comfort of my personal chamber, in dismal contentment, blanketed in the mellow, conditioned glow of amber lamps on darkness. Nothing stirs here, except my thought, and daily pains as they slip from my psyche. Dwindling views of things pleasant and things loving melt as I succumb to visions of bedazzling dreamery
Come late, the glow fades as the amber drips into unconsciousness. The night for me is at an end here as moonlight wanes to morning.
...and a new day is upon us once again.
goodnight all, warm in bed. Tomorrow grows weak and today wins over in the battle.