Mystic Angel

Nothing in this world or the world we haven't heard about can define it. It's protected, surrounded by only hurt but it's protected. It fights, it feels and without hope it passionately makes you feel. It turns grey clouds blue; it rains love, fills an empty river by tears and gives them happy flow. This is the feeling that can erode you, dismantle you, drown you or dissolve in you and reside in you to the end of time. You can always pretend but deep down you know that it's something that can never be away from you cause its mysticism can't be written or found anywhere yet everything that surrounds us, talks about it.

Every time that guitar bled, music was made.

Every time a sonnet was composed, a feeling was written.

Every time a gospel was written, faith was strengthened.

Every time an angel died, love remained untouched.

Love cannot be bought, it cannot be grown, it cannot be taken away, and it can't be stolen. It can only be felt and passed on.

You want it so bad sometimes that you can go back to the things you believed in once, and you are scared that you might forget yourself. Letting go has never been easy and goodbye is the hardest word ever written, said or heard.

It is love and if you have figured it out then perhaps it's time to refigure it out and if you haven't found out a thing about love yet then this is life and it's how you know it.