AntiAnti-Polara

 I was never musically inclined. As much as I tried I could never strum a string, create sounds, sing, let alone whistle. For as long as I could remember my family could always create something beautiful with music. My mother could sing and put any song bird to shame; my father could play any instrument under the sun. But I could not, I couldn't do anything. My mother always said that maybe music isn't your calling; you needed to find your own. I didn't believe her when she said that. Maybe because I wanted it to be my calling. I hoped that maybe working at an opera house would help my hopeful musical calling but it didn't. Everyday after s

They took the colours. They took the colours and they burned them. They took the ashes and spread them over our hearts so we would always remember what they were like. They took the stars. They took them and destroyed them. They put pieces of stars in our minds so we would always remember what they looked like. They said that was pure. In the clouds she could see the colours they couldn’t reach and the stars they had missed. Others wanted to see them too. They took ladders to the clouds. It began snowing and the clouds dispersed and ladders fell. At home everyone cried. Everything was completely snowed in. She opened the win