Adelina Amare

Such a unique, captivating melody;
It could have only come from your soul.
You played it with such deep emotion.
That piece my heart will forever hold.
...

It is in moments like these
I seek solace from the pen.
These moments when emotions swirl round my head;
A tempest without known end.
...

I sit alone at my writing desk with paper and quill,
Yet I have no inspiration, no artist's thrill.
My muse is like the fickle tide,
Unwilling to stand constantly at my side.
...

I am a butterfly,
Flitting from flower to flower.
Don't count on me to settle.
I will be gone within the hour.
...

Life is a palimpsest.
Every moment that passes replaces the past,
Though traces of it still remain,
But they will not always last.
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I have trapped you in between these sheets of paper
So you can be read through the voice of my narrator;
So that all you are can be thrown into something new.
What madness I have thrown you into.
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I wish to go with you so I can follow my dreams.
So that who I truly am can be seen.
I am not the little blind girl they should pity.
I am much bigger than that, and that is what they must see.
...

I am a traveler because I read.
I slip through time, and even worlds, for I own all the keys.
I see such incredible sights,
And fall in love with the bravest of knights.
...

Books with dark, riveting paragraphs;
Music that has the touch of butterfly wings;
Words that flow from my soul and then to the paper.
My favorite nights are those that contain music and written words.
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It is a great tragedy
When one leaves this world, thinking
One's work will never succeed;
One spends one's last days sinking.
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Why must endless clouds
Hover near the glass
And mock the dying soul,
Showing that life has passed?
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I arrived much too late to the dance,
And I wondered if you were there by mere chance,
Or if you were waiting for me.
Yet I knew my absence was unnoticed by you.
...

She stood on the dock, the violent wind tangling her hair.
No one could hear her cries of pain and despair.
She could taste the salty sea air and hear the waves crash against the shore,
Yet they could not drown out her thoughts of the night before.
...

Meet me in the garden
Among the beauteous flowers.
Stand with me beneath the moon.
This delightful night shall be ours.
...

I will never forget that cold December night.
A thick veil of clouds obstructed the moonlight;
A gray wall surrounding the sky, confining all of its beauty.
Black was all that we could see.
...

It's a sin to kill a mockingbird,
For they do nothing but sing their hearts out for us to hear.
Some blind men trapped a mockingbird, and he sang the song of hope,
Hope that everything would soon become clear.
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She gingerly takes his hand in hers,
And tries to imagine the pain he endures.
A soft blanket of compassion enwraps her,
But soon the feelings of fear and sorrow entrap her.
...

These are the eyes of December,
And I hope you will soon remember
How they would brighten at the sight of your affectionate face.
Now they darken, for I may never again feel your warm embrace.
...

She told me she made friends with Time,
An immortal who hates mankind.
I told her he is no friend, far from one.
He will just keep on spinning his wheel after she's gone,
...

A boat travels on the sea.
It has only a slight sway.
The passenger lies still on the deck;
Upward his eyes gaze.
...