(no subject)
He sits in the dark, trying to paint a melody in his head. The sound of soft rain floods his mind, like small marbles rolling down a boulder. It's a beautiful sound, but it doesn't create notes in some beautiful fashion to cut through his mind block. Some of the droplets fall onto his soft, blue, cotton shirt, and are absorbed like a sponge. Others create tiny explosions on his stiff blue jeans.
A lightning bolt strikes, illuminating the sea green leaves and his fuzzy cream cowboy hat. Shouldn't this awaken something in his mind? Something shocked out of his subconscious that could bring the whole world together with tears of empathy? The reappearing darkness only makes him feel more empty and alone as he searches for inspiration. The sound of the rain is silenced for a moment when the thunder roars, demanding the spotlight in his ears. It's a new sound that yet again lacks melody, and delivers him no merciful inspiration.
His spine hangs with defeat, much like the soaked grass surrounding his leather cowboy boots. He stands up, allowing the small needles to begin stabbing the soles of his feet as he wanders off, looking up into the dead black sky. The once soft rain drops become pounding drums as they collide into the crevices of his ears. The forest has decided that yet again he has failed her, and has yet again failed to change the world.
A lightning bolt strikes, illuminating the sea green leaves and his fuzzy cream cowboy hat. Shouldn't this awaken something in his mind? Something shocked out of his subconscious that could bring the whole world together with tears of empathy? The reappearing darkness only makes him feel more empty and alone as he searches for inspiration. The sound of the rain is silenced for a moment when the thunder roars, demanding the spotlight in his ears. It's a new sound that yet again lacks melody, and delivers him no merciful inspiration.
His spine hangs with defeat, much like the soaked grass surrounding his leather cowboy boots. He stands up, allowing the small needles to begin stabbing the soles of his feet as he wanders off, looking up into the dead black sky. The once soft rain drops become pounding drums as they collide into the crevices of his ears. The forest has decided that yet again he has failed her, and has yet again failed to change the world.