Viewpoint 1-9

Title: Rain-drenched Morrow

The calm humid air turned warm as the sun rose from its drowsy slumber.

The light peeked through the widely ajar door and shone the comfortably blue room into a pigmented stale gray with a bright spark of sunlight that reflected onto the wooden chairs.

The light stung eyes and the call of a new day sprung forth many loud whispers and small conversations as some kept dutifully to themselves and rendered their minds busy with dreaded schoolwork or quiet murmuring to themselves.

Viewpoint 1: Rainy school day.

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Title: Silent Comfort

The ensuing silence that followed as a school of students flocked in a chaotic orderly line was comfortable. It was not a silence that choked like ghastly hands, more a fleeting moment knowing that there is not a variable outside of your control.

It was not a silence so eerie that your own heartbeat was as loud as a beating drum or a quietness that scares most, as many can hide under the facade of a soundless scape.

I love the silence and the faint light that scatters to the dark night.

Viewpoint 2: Students leaving a room.

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Title: Dreams(?)

I turned and ravaged the sheets of my bed, flopping my pillow as if it were something I need not pay care for.

In the dead of night and a dull light that scarcely poured into the grey tinted windows, I moved like a madman hit with a fit of lunacy, hoping that it could rid me of these folly dreams that I could not look at with any other face than the overwhelming cry of disdain and a strong horrid feeling that I retched vomit for.

Viewpoint 3: An uncomfortable night.

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Title: The Cycle

Spring had come to fruition and the scent of fall dawned just around the corner. The lively green leaves that burst open with vitality slowly withered to a maple orange and fell from the branches a dried brown leaf.

The dried leaves were raked into a haystack of worn out life, forming a mound, soon to rot under the very soil it wrought.

Viewpoint 4: Fall.

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Title: A Bright Encore

Chained behind walls and a fence that runs through the full perimeter of this concept called an educational prison, the trees let auburn sunlight permeate through the chlorophyll filled foliage.

A natural spotlight cast upon the pavement as the sun's rays came through the small slit the trees left open. As the sun died, the skies turned a muddy blue tainted by a greasy orange.

Viewpoint 5: Sunset, in the school.

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Title: Foolish Imputations

The clouds rolled into the horizon, leaving the blue sky as clear as a crystal, watching the vast ocean littered with boats and swans fluttering about.

The edge seemed to disappear into the void, even if I knew that the mass of water would stretch infinitely.

It's a shame, to be genetically predisposed to be limited and unable to see the eternally growing sky, nor the seven oceans that held many secrets.

Viewpoint 6: Sentiments made, with the ocean as your witness.

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Title: The Christmas Season

Evergreen mountains, long rivers and busy lights traffic the ashen view. Minty ferns poke out the snow rested lazily upon the thorn encrusted leaves. Ice streaks ran like snowflakes on the erstwhile flowing river, now a still life formed by the Christmas season.

Life bustled in the faraway city, whose city lights sparked a bright fire, wilting away the chilly winter time.

A man dressed red flies through the star subjugated sky with a crestfallen expression as he holds a lump of coal.

Viewpoint 7: A stupid bird.

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Title: Sunflower

Lain soundlessly on a bed of white lilies, surrounded by sullen sunflowers and blemished roses stood an unpraised mound of a forgotten king.

Devout to his servants and loyal to his country, a mighty fine king he made. Yet he died twice, no longer bearing honor, nor a name. For he was ridiculed, as he died a broken man.

The sleeping sunflowers were a testament to his glory.

Viewpoint 8: A random mountain, in a random island.

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Title: Truth's Repose

Hardwood floor clacked under glass heels and strong accusations flew by across the courthouse. The gavel banged and order returned as the glass heels walked composed, sat unfazed.

The truth slept like the dead, unwaking, unaccepting that the sanctity of justice is forever tarnished.

Viewpoint 9: A courtroom.

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