I’ll be the Santiago to your Alchemist.

I’ll comb the sands of the desert in pursuit,

I’ll turn myself into the whirling wind

As long as you teach me how to live

With the Universal Language.

 A poem i thought of after reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho:

  

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 Tonight the stars are falling

Tonight the end is calling

Each twinkle cast down from the sky

Each tear shed from her eye

 

One after another they slide down her face

Leaving her with a puddle of tears and her fallen grace

If these stars do not stop falling her soul will be...

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They feed in the darkness.

When you think your mind is playing tricks on you,

But you can’t deny the jump your heart makes

or the breath stuck in your throat that is long overdue.

 

They feed in the darkness.

When you hear the floor creak and the sound of heavy...

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The train races; the smoke rises

The train races; the whistle blows

The train races; the smoke rises

The train races; it calls out to me

Where it is leading, I do not know,

Perhaps into the stars,

Burning forever bright.

Perhaps under the ocean,

Deep as the color of your...

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<a href="http://s63.photobucket.com/albums/h121/xxbluexrainxx/?action=view&current=CAQ22HQ8.jpg" target="_blank"<img src="http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h121/xxbluexrainxx/CAQ22HQ8.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"</a There’s a girl that sells flowers on the street At the...

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