#thefearlesscreative

A loss of worlds. a loss of words. It seems to happen at the same time. Everything out in the open to fall on us. The creative few tasked with the regiment to make the world feel more free, open, and cosmopolitan. We the few. the brave, the brilliant, the recluse. The horn plays, the pencil sketches, the impersonation continues. It withers away to despair leaving a deep and un mendable wound. We never heal. we split wider and wider until no more. Until dust to dust. left to the blood sucking hounds and leeches to keep watch and point fingers for gold.