BETWEEN THE LINES

Between the lines there is a space that is empty, follow by the next line of the chapter to be created. FOR the next line is slowly taking shape, to unfold the truth of deepness of the story. For with every line there are words ✍️ to be compose just from pen 🖊️ to paper. For it's true about love and life with thoughts of betrayal and deception, filled with the closeness of the darkness over shadowing. The page making it darker, as it prepares you to what comes next, down the line of dark mystery. THAT still you can't see through your own eyes 👁️👁️ as you read line by line. YET you still wait with anticipation, wondering what happens next, for only time will tell you as you become more involved. Waiting for the next line to be exposing any moment now. BUT the line is left blank 😔 waiting for you to fill in the next line, with your own imagination and mere thoughts, for it's literally a carbon copy of your own life, not yet written by you from 🖋️ pen to paper. THAT you can read between the lines of your own thoughts, on your own life and trails and tribulations, that you can write ✍️ a book, upon your own journeys and travels and walks through this vortex of your own life.