A picture of black and white.
Imagination extends. Two lovers kiss at this momentary silence. Everybody in the background fade to black. Just the two of them.
Time suspends. Moving planes travel in two different directions. All motions halt. Fade to black. Bunch of flower in their hands.
Enchanting moment. That is Passion.
Passion comes from longing.
Passion is like a burning candle.
Passion is tears and joy.
Passion redefines time.
Passion is an Agent of Love.
And when motion resumes, when the sand begins its descend in the hourglass, the picture begins to turn white and it begins to turn bright. My eyes are hurt and there is nothing to be seen.
Categories: From the Attic
Tags: No Comments
0 responses so far ↓
There are no comments yet...Kick things off by filling out the form below.