Recent content by AngelGadiel

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The passage echoes to empty breathing. Some little sound, that should not be named aloud; The walls are bent in, skinny and grey. As those sorrowful men who wear a shroud. The mirror retains a second face-- It blinks a beat behind my own, As if it knows a truer shape Under the skin and beneath...

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Cold fingers lurking quietly, touches walls unseen, Haunting and filling the empty space between. The darkness feels heavy, a shrouding cloud, Though the silence grows yet seem shattering loud. There is a glimmer dancing on the floor, A light from a candle, a distant door. As the shadows...

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Words are a cage, fear is a cage, noise is a cage. And maybe, the quiet is the bigger cage. It can help you relax and find serenity. Breathe in comfort, and heal from the storm. Then all of a sudden, it turns into a mirror. A mirror for the things left unsaid and the feelings you believed...

Quiet moments and change… The wind is not in a rush, but instead waits, nudges leaves like old friends who have not spoken for some time. No rush, just merely the gradual revelation of stories forgotten in the shadow of yesterday. Clouds drift like thoughts you almost remember, and the sky is...

I'm at the window where rain used to splash wild patterns on glass, but today the sky is just gray, not furious, just exhausted. Like myself. It is peculiar to me that silence is louder, once your own world has collapsed around you. It buzzes in the corners, rings in the stillness of...

I rise before sunrise as if it might have some clues. But the sky is only a gray canvas, smudged with yesterday's fingerprints. No light, no heat—only raw pain of another morning I did not request. My bedroom is haunted by spirits that resemble options. Photos turned face-down, drawers that...

As the world begins to turn, noise and movie filling within. There's a breather and a soft beat, where day and psyche entwine in a quiet, down place. The pitch is variable, soft and wide, where dreamers are never denied or trodden on. Each electron beam of light, a new promise, shares the day...

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Steam and Silence The cup is warm a little sunshine in my hands— steam curling into nothing such thoughts I won't complete. It blurs the walkway outside. people flicker past, half-seen. A laugh breaks at the counter, as sharp as a sugar cube. The person in the corner marks a book twice, as...