a call for freedom

as the minutes past on by slowly on this dreary evening, I spend another day and all of my time in this lonely asylum, embracing the constant cold while converting thoughts into meaningful dreams, that would lighten up my path to an escape, a freedom I have been so desperate for, stuck in this soulless cell, shifting my particles into long lost constellations, each of my pulsating heartbeats opened up to a galaxy, not fearful of the concrete walls around me, ever expanding and growing out of my mind

I have converted myself into a free spirit

that knew no walls

Challenge

Poem/Paragraph Using These 5 Words

The 5 Words: constellation(s), minute(s), dreary, asylum(s), convert(ing/ed). As you can see, these words can be made singular/plural or present/past tense. This challenge is to create a poem or paragraph that makes sense using all these words. It can't be random sentences or lines put together. There has to be some meaning or purpose to what you write. Do your best to create something your audience can understand!

Danceinsilence

Life Inside the Universe

The constellations of my life, dreary and somewhat boring as it is, connect lines to squares and squares to circles, some tall, some short; all better said as those years I have walked through, but they convert to simply minutes of a span of life in this walking asylum I live in. And the asylum is my universe less travelled by others.

Challenge

Poem/Paragraph Using These 5 Words

The 5 Words: constellation(s), minute(s), dreary, asylum(s), convert(ing/ed). As you can see, these words can be made singular/plural or present/past tense. This challenge is to create a poem or paragraph that makes sense using all these words. It can't be random sentences or lines put together. There has to be some meaning or purpose to what you write. Do your best to create something your audience can understand!

Mazzmyrrheyes

Eclipse Asylum

The heavy garment of eve’s darkness is arrayed with flickering starlight, like beads scattered across a black evening gown; formal for the gathering of her moon and constellations, the stars of her midnight showing, each with their own tales of betrayal, heroism, war, and love. Across her, lays a milk-white sash in her pageant of beauty. She’s stunning, donned in her black tie attire, having converted in the cover of darkness from her cool azure garment that she wore just hours ago. I wait, counting the minutes until, at last, our earth has denied the evening’s moon her lover’s light and we steal her away into the shelter of our being. The blanket of the night becomes blood-stained as if she has met her death without her sun and her life’s light bleeds out slowly into the atmosphere. The sun will prevail and he will shine his glory upon her so that she reflects his grandeur again, but now she lays in darkness and a dreary sense of despair; the asylum of earth’s shadow. Time passes and, slowly, she awakens to the light of her sun as the earth slips away, powerless to contain her in his grasp any longer. She is kissed by her beloved and reveals her beauty against the onyx backdrop. He is her King and she, his Queen with the stars, all their subjects in his Kingdom of Light. I am but an observer of them all this night; night of the eclipse asylum.