ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Books, Literature, and Writing»
  • Commercial & Creative Writing

From Night to Day

Updated on October 22, 2012

The blue and light green tints of the skies offer just a glimpse into the future of emotional roller coasters, one human looking for love, another for a way up and out. "A troubled soul, one that neither speaks nor fluctuates thoughts across the muddy plains of never ending demands and commands, will most assuringly fall," says one voice. Yet another voice almost instantaneously speaks back, "Truth be figured in waves of tell-tale signs of lustful reintegration and contentions, lest the individual needs are so calculated and met according to materialistic standards". The swirls of the clouds begin to set upon the skies of change, sudden bursts of colors and repeated energies condensing into hope and fruitful possibilities.

"Have you no understanding of the residual left behind conditions that are to come, all but memories of past ultimatums," a voice says with authoritative complexities. Almost settled now, the skies offering their consolations and consumption into the vibrant colors of wit be told. "You say this but stand at the edge of oblivion, your emotional turmoil most certainly getting the best of you if fathomed correctly," echoing voices attempt to say with condescending tone. Tumbled existence simply falling away like tattered sheep attempting to hop over the moon, sleep deprived excitability much to common. "These thoughts and consumed cravings of could and would be are much to strong, the possibilities of letting them go are much to real and unsettling in fact and display."

A gathering sky was most certainly dark now, stars taking their places among the symphony of the universal song, it's engraved densities of wisdom far unfathomed by any individual or creature that lives hereof. "Would they or could they, all decide upon one point or another much like a collective of the purest hopes and dreams gathering like a crowd of enlightened understanding," the resounding voice was heard as it frequented the air and waves. However dim the hearts of those on the surface may or may not have been, the brightness of each individual star, taking millions of light years to show in their primitive eyes a sense of hope for a better tomorrow. "Could they possibly co-attend, but with individual thought and display of personalization and comprised motivations."

The night became just a little duller, the notions of a very dim sunlight began to shine over the horizon like a orange and red tinted vision of variety and diversity. "If one does not falter, it allows the soul of passion, nay of consolidation from the measly prizes of would be truthful lies that present themselves around every bend," The voice said as un-biased as possible. Horizon conditioning began to present itself, the weights slightly lifted for the warmth of the way to begin its patronizing of tangible nothingness. "So you speak but you may not listen, tampered dreams one set in motion to gain unknowing questioning from the pits of un-reliance and predicaments," the other voice so gallantly speaks.

At this time, the sun began to show its true colors, bright yellows and reds, gleaming its warmth all over the planetary design of now globally understood circumference. "Oh the times most certainly change for the better, whether first or last or no where in between, yet it never falters to prevent disaster," the muffled voice attempts to get out according to the sun's proximity to the emotional outland. Withered but condescending, a repair of utmost condolence, the rays shattering the imagination's purest wish of paradise unfolding. "Has it not been, construed vices not but for the wicked, visitation of constructs not heavily concealed from mass display, but they wouldn't notice", a voice said with restraint and confused stance. The ticks of time stopped, a worthy adversary shown with ruthless appeal from the sunset once again in display, the new light within the destruction.


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • profile image

      Sueswan 5 years ago

      Hi Mark,

      "The swirls of the clouds begin to set upon the skies of change, sudden bursts of colors and repeated energies condensing into hope and fruitful possibilities. "

      I was watching a program about Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome when I first heard about neuroplasticity.

      Voted up and awesome

      Take care

    • BakerRambles profile image

      BakerRambles 5 years ago from Baltimore, MD

      Well thank you, I appreciate the feedback. I hope to see some of yours as well.

    • Eiddwen profile image

      Eiddwen 5 years ago from Wales

      A brilliant hub and here's to so many more hubs for us both to share on here.