I'm a picture without a frame.
A poem without a rhyme.
A car with three wheels.
A sun without fire.
I am a gun without bullets.
I am the truth without someone to hear it.
I am a feeling without someone to feel it.
This is who I am.
A mess without you.

Dragons, angels, gnomes, creatures beneath the earth that make words with hammers, a shooting star that shoots back, rain falling from the ground to the sky, bars that refuse to serve dwarfs or wanderers, a fountain that makes you young (and lonely) while those around you grow old, saplings that know everything, a sea made of tears from every lover who never loved, a silver boat with a sail made of pages from all the books that were never written.

All my dreams are beautiful. But none as beautiful as you. You are the reason I return here each morning.

Before humans were formed,
When the earth was still young.
A lone owl was out flying one evening,
Looking for its supper.

Without warning,
Mother winds erupted into a storm.
The owl was blown off course,
Into the brush below.

She decided to wait the storm out,
And not risk flight in the winds.
“Hello,” said a sly voice.
The owl turned and saw a grinning red fox.

“Why are you down here in the brush?”
The fox asked the owl.
“The storm has blown me here,
I’ll leave as soon as the winds die down.”

“Maybe we can help each other,” the fox coaxed.
“And how would we do that?”
“Well, I’ve always been told that owls are wise.”
“And I’ve heard that foxes are clever.”

“Indeed, we are. And this fox has an idea.”
“What, pray tell, is it?”
“Well I think that we could make a great team.”
“In what way?”

The fox grinned even wider.
“Well, when I hunt, the animals all run from the brush,”
The owl saw the foxes idea.
“And when I hunt the animals run -into- the brush.”

“So if we hunt together,” the owl said…
“We can always get supper,” the fox finished.
“It sounds like a good idea.”
The fox licked his chops in anticipation.

Slowly, the winds began to die down,
And the idea became a reality.
Both the owl and the fox,
Ate a very hearty meal together.

The owl spoke of many wise things.
She told of how the winds whispered,
And why the waters remembered our names.
Even of why the rocks fell asleep.

The fox spoke of clever deeds.
Of how it could change ice into fire,
And how the tides worked.
Even of how lightning and thunder form.

The owl and the fox grew a great fondness for each other.
But the night grew late, and the hour was waning.
They both knew that it was time.
Time to part and go separate ways.

“But I don’t want you to go,” spoke the fox.
“I belong in the air,” replied the owl as it took flight,
“Come, fly with me! We’ll soar over mountains together.”
The fox looked down at his body, “but I haven’t any wings.”

Fate, it seemed, was being cruel once again.
For the fox couldn’t fly, but the owl needed to.
They filled the gaps in each other’s ways,
But they were too different to stay together.

Or…

“But I can climb on top of the brush!”
The fox desperately shouted up at the owl.
“And I can fly a little lower,”
The owl smiled.

And then the two were together,
To finish what each other started,
To make the days better for each,
To fill the gaps in each other’s life.

Yey! I'm in Melo again. :D

Thanks to:
http://www.melodramatic.com/users/the_countess

love love! <3