Words...

The little winding rode of words is tempting me down the path of creation. It's not real and it doesn't exist but it's worth more than anything I've ever touched. As easily as it is to dream as uncomplicated is it to deny it, disregard the thought and idea was ever there. This seldom world in my mind is sacred and holy but nothing to rely on. No prayers or wishes can seek comfort but it does create them. The solitude of imagination is only limiting itself as it continues trekking on, past me.

Domesnight

Last nights domesday picture. 

Conflicted