Inaudible Quintessential Day      

The day is quiet.
    The night reaks with sound.
The destined land lies close within to the beating heart, inaudible in truth
yet becoming great in caring while quintessentially echoing memories within
the star-crossed fates of a music which can only be heard with the determined
mind; aching in love, shouting curses with freedom tagging at her heels, "I love you!" he proclaimed with a pained reprise, though his words were lost in the wind morphing into the very thoughts dreams were created from, all the while she in all her parataxic, partalyptic, paratrooperous prosperity,   determined to persist, and percieve through the most dreary of times,
yet portray all predecessors without psychological heed to the sounding calls of the silent echoes which provides a premise of the next day.
    The night reaks with sound. 
But the day is quiet.


by jY