A churning yearning begging to be quenched. A pulsing pressure building without vent.
A calling from shadows and foggy paths.
A whisper of purpose beyond your grasp.
No destination.
No direction.
Just the pull of life from time that cannot leave. 
at 05:39
- Fionacatherine, Blackjackuar, meohmy, Demetrius, JodieT, theobserver, DeadPoet, FrankFilocamo, emiledi77, mars118 and 5 others like this
