A poet, in the age when pantaloons were in fashion. He would be single at that age, and living across the country site where fluffly cows indulged in the flowly grass plains. I believe during this time, he have died of in depression and suicide due to the fact that a poem he made did not become published and it was his goal to achieve it, but he failed. The visions of the poem seems blurry but all I knew was that the title is "Candlelight", the rest of the poem seems blurry.
A little indian girl about 7, living along side a strong and busy river. One day she was washing an old cloth that her aunt gave her and the current accidently sweeped away the green cloth. Slowly she jumped into the water only to be swept by the current itself. She survived drowing and ended up in a near jungle, but I remembered something tucked at her waist and pulled her into the water which I like to use as an excuse to explain my aquaphobia.
A woman robed in brown, she was part of an alley gang and the country was a dangerous place to be in at that time, where an assasination could occur at any given time. She seems to be running from two men dressed in darkish brown clothes and both carrying knifes and is pursueing her. She runs to the church and there she lays praying for her life with tears in her eyes. But with a red splash the vision ends there.
These are the three lives that I have always invisioned and I feel that each of their deaths and story contributes something to my present personality and feelings for things in my life. Perhaps everyone has the same feeling as me? Maybe they are too shy to express it due to the fact it is unexplained. Or perhaps they do not know how to understand and describe these feelings. But always remember that each of these feelings are very precious, you now, are creating your own story, and perhaps resurrection would have you feel these feelings again. Just because its unexplained doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
Labels: sweet
