Zephyrus, the House of Breath.

Over inspiration, like a delicate taste of tea burning your tongue. 

I keep bathing in pictures and breathing in words.

They capture my baby blue instantly

and blind me with their beauty in a blink of an eye. 

My right side is filled up with senses and roses.

So much delicacy, that I’m not able to place.

 I’m searching for a house to keep them safe,

because I’m afraid to forget. 

Memories and aims are what I live for. 

The ones I love, I’ll always remember

and the ones I don’t know yet, I aim to love. 

Confessions are like whispers, you desire to share,

while fearing their revelation.

Too loose my freedom is the secret fear I hide in me.

Freedom to me, is inspiration, air, light and sound. 

So if I’ll loose this elevation, that I perceive

with the sources of my tears and the catchers of symphonies,

I won’t be able to breathe.