Someday you may win...

A swing and a miss, for all those who know, it's done a lot, again tonight, maybe the destruction of something beautifully silent will ease my frantic mind. As it races from one to another, the thoughts caress my ever flowing ideas of hysteria. One time they will come through for me, one day, one miracle. Miracles do come though, fleeting as they may be. Mircales that destroy the things held dear and cherished as if they were angels. My mind again races from degenerating thought to crumbling idea, all the while concentrating on the images at hand. "Memories like fingerprints, slowly raising" a song once said, and I believe that true, memories equal fingerprints in all qualities, exspecially the ones to where they just wipe away without a second notion to thier safety. A hymn sang in the choir of angels, floats to the ears of a child when they are born, yet all your life you never hear it, until one day you hear it slightly distorted, maybe backwards, slowly calling, pulling you away. My thoughts follow the same destructive pattern, they come, they go, never quite staying long enough to catch hold permanently, to hold like cement. One day I will catch one of those ideas, those thoughts, like a butterfly...a small black butterfly....