It’s 6pm

it’s 6pm. i rest my back on the mountain the Creator drove to my doorstep. i become a sweet river that trickles in the midst of its rough edges. i look outside a vintage window into the trees of life that were created to dance just for me. we lay side by side complimenting each others’ presence as the vessels in my flow break the silence that shines through my ambitions. i then am carried on a magic carpet worth 2420 hours of hard work and dreams. the wind whistles in the direction of my destination pushing me and my mountain to a world nobody can see but me. i rest my back on the mountain the Creator drove to my doorstep because i have faith in my Lord even if my waters make this mountains edges crumble. it’s 6pm. i realised i have come to wash stereotypes and that i have nothing against these beautiful beings. how can i when i’ve come to save them from their own fears, including myself. hurdles cross the logistics of my path, and paradise promises kiss my paranoia away. it’s 6pm and my destination keeps blossoming and blooming into beautiful branches of blue apples. I love us for all that we are. it’s 6pm. i rest my back on the mountain the Creator drove to my doorstep. The trees in our paradise birth blue bouquets, blue butterflies; and blue apples that taste like the beauty within justice. it’s 6pm.