Long time no see my friends!
Things have been quiet here as of late due to the fact that I have been toiling away at something pretty cool, something I will be revealing in my next post. As a detour, I decided to write (Or clumsily attempt to write) some Poetry. In all honesty, Poetry has never been something I've been particularly good at, but my partner challenged me to a session of automatic writing and the resulting collection of words, completely unedited, are below for your reading pleasure. Words Are Tendrils They drift from the lips of a passer-by, strangers and intimate, cherished beings. There are meanings and codes, locks to break, decisions to decipher, all the answers to be found, in an utterance, a muttering, a moment of frivolity. Words are tendrils They seep from one end to another, caressing or distressing, invading or satiating, building or destroying. With so many combinations, they can set nations on fire, turn a wicked heart from darkness, create a future or damn them to sadness. They are infinite and infinitely finite So much and yet so simple cherished and forgotten. No end until the end.
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About Elliott
Elliott Thomas is a native Sydney dweller who loves to write. No genre is off limits. That's all you need to know, carry on. Archive
March 2018
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