#this is old

If passion were an ocean which I swim,

I would dip my pen in inky waters,

And fill up countless papers at my whim, 

Finding the words to write the world’s fodders. 

For every work I’d make a melody,

Looking for ways to soak my words in song.

I’d keep leading clubs, making memories. 

Sharing an ocean makes a group strong. 

But the Machine burns for endless supply, 

More than any mind at once could muster. 

The cogs glowing red hot screech at the sky, 

It prefers eruptions of lackluster. 

As the passionate lake gets burnt to steam, 

don’t hate the girl 🐇

*He looks behind to see several girls playing with each other, some playing with the boys in physical sport games, and a few kids are reading books or following Nonou around to help her with chores.*

"I do actually! Urushi is my older brother and we both are pretty close! Mother said that until I get adopted or even after. I should always consider everyone here as my siblings!"

Rules: Post the last line you’ve written in an WIP.

Thank you for the tag, @randomfoggytiger

She couldn’t because she knew he was in her bones now, her blood….and that every moment past this, no matter what or where… would quietly belong to him.

Tagging @mashnotesofthemythopoeic