When you believe and act on your dreams, your dreams will become a reality.
The answer of life struggles in between two kinds of people- those who live to dream and those who dream to live Ask them the question about death if they can truly conceive
Nightmares and secrets. Ewan wished he knew what had happened to these girls before he found them.
They that fail to understand their dreams, visions and aspirations in life and the real steps to take to make dreams a reality shall always have realities of life teaching them the had I knows of life.
Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
My vision is to change the world and paint it with a brush that is powerful enough to make us one.
Open your wings, fly toward the sky To live in your dream, even if it is high
And once the ripples still and the water returns to its unwavering calm, even the pebble that broke its surface will be forgotten. And the world will go on.
He sang softly, less with words and more with thought. She cradled his head, stitching together his fragmented heart.
I was lost in the moments I decided to keep. To be awake in a dreamless sleep. And in that place between dream and sleep, I planted some more things I would like to keep.
Life is an accumulation of what your Heart and mind has pondered most, a conclusion of all you wishes, dreams and desires.
She speaks in heartbeats and the rises of her chest, words forever seared in thoughts that will never rest.
She was starmetal bones with kaleidoscope eyes. A cracked framework of unique beauty, a patchwork portrait filled with swirling brush strokes, an amalgamation of delicate light and detailed shatter. I could write a novel about the way she breathes.
Woven words are little conviction when I present myself as a man of fiction.
It was her eyes. Soft, meadow-shade eyes with frostbitten edges. Every glance casually held gossamer infinity. Every stare revealed inky black abyss with a hint of divinity.
She had the blood of the sun running through her veins and the dust of stars at her fingertips. Her every breath birthed new cosmos and her thoughts were the super moon of the darkest night. Every word was a supernova and every step an inescapable singularity. Her touch though...it was soft.
He gave up. No hint of ember behind his eyes nor life in his breath. He snipped the last, overstretched strand of hope, and nicked the strand of life by mistake. He did it with his hands.
With ravenous passion and reckless ambition he forged his thoughts into words, obsessed with the notion that dying would not be the last thing he would do.