You know it doesn't make sense.

I thought I had found that one thing lasts throughout all time. Inspiration! However now I find that it's getting more difficult to write, nothing comes to mind except the beauty that was a lie. Lost in the woods of my failing mind, I'm slowly turning away to run from the tide. Change is disheartening at times, as happiness leads to loneliness I find. The heart beats on the mind trails off, neither seems to understand the truth that behind. So here I find I cannot truly write, as a bird in cage I feel trapped inside.

As we spoke of promises we must also consider the thought of moving on, the oddity that it must be so. Recently I opened my heart again only to allow myself enough time to catch it before it fluttered into pain. It is to be frank a feeling that is not to be held onto. Though some experiences are worthy. If to live in the moment you must lose in the long run then some cases the moment is still grand. Once the moment has escaped you're left with the wanting, the need to pick it up again where you'll try anything including compromising your comfort, in order to get back that feeling that once was thought inescapable. We know it's impossible to hold on to everything, yet we have trouble letting go. That is part of moving on.

The heart is a fickle thing, hard to understand and often confused. I've not written in a while because my heart wasn't in it. Honestly I'm uncertain if it actually is now. However I made a promise, and promises are not meant to be broken. That simple act has me writing again, you could stay we're placing my heart in the right places. Unfortunately that source of inspiration wasn't meant to stay with me, so I've found another source, and that is the need to keep my promises. So the heart is a funny thing, often wanting, nearly ever fulfilled. Poetry however is motion, and exploration, so I hope dearly it'll help bring me closer to an understanding of my heart's desires. Good to be back.