A Chariot Into The Sun Painted My Sky Auburn.

What have you,
when you have turned your back on passion.
I ask you to look back and justify your every doing,
your every action,
your every reason,
your every thought.
What guides these justifications?
What have we done with ourselves once we blind our passion?
This is what I have done.
I am done.
Done believing in an incorrect path with misguided insight to goals that are not flowing of passionate movements.
What am I doing?
I am doing me.
Until it's over.
So we shall...
dance the river walk,
swim the clouded skies of glowing oranges and yellows,
and dream of the dreamy dreams of unique musicality free flowing through the cornfields once again.
Wherever you have gone is no longer matter,
I have you in my arms again.
We have a new twist now,
a new taste,
a flavor entirely sweet.
Let's make music again.
I want to summon a sound so percolating of every desired endeavor my mind has ever discovered upon any single interest.
Lets just melt together,
unique of every personal quality,
just melting,
separately together,
smiling as we liquefy away into every crevasse our momentum escorts us.
We will date our motivation once again.
The moon will crow, and we phase nothing but light hues of glowing five-in-the-mornings.
I allure an inspiration here.
I'm not sure how or why.
Proof is not a blue-print, but a crafted discovery unnecessary of any propriety.
We will date our motivation once again.
The moon will crow, and we phase nothing but light hues of glowing five-in-the-mornings.
Prancing hooves disperse a sense of enlightenment from an emotion deserving nothing but the best of chariots.

Your motivational horse power allures me.