Here's to the rush of the gale
That shatters our world.
While others do not feel the breeze,
Others can't feel the whirl.
Here's to the characters we live for,
That others make the fatal mistake
Of calling them wrong;
Of calling them fake.
When we know they exist
Inside our heads.
Here's to the beauty
That only we know,
The paterns and curves,
Helping us to grow,
Yet the outside sees them
Only as words.
We are the grey:
We fade into the back
of a canvas; fading to black,
We watch the vibrant, lively colours,
As a paper spread out before us.
Yet we are the waves:
We flow and crest,
More beautiful than even the sun
Countless as the stars,
And thus, we have won.
We are powerful.
We are writers; we are dreamers - but most of all, we are people. We live for our characters.
I haven't created any characters yet, but I'm open to finding a universe to play in! Contact Me »