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Thump. Beat.Follow the sound of your heartbeat.
For there, there shall always be a rhythm.
It will not sound like any sound you have heard before.
Yet you will know every volume
As if you had been hearing the same song for every day of your life
Since you first gasped.
And the beat began.
SshRace to the beating trail of your own heart,Listen to the own sound of your feet running for the abyssful wonder of a dream,Look to the flight of your wings in your eyes that are always searching with the clouds high above, Feel the bliss of your puffing breath gasps of leaving the world of black and white to chase after a red butterfly.And Ssh as you learn to know the gentle screaming voice around you, the words the voice are you, learning not lost, but searching.
Sadness in the StormRain drops trickle down upon my eyes, my eyes that burn with a sadness and spread in the raindrops like a fire that has lost it's hold,scolding my cheeks in it's fury,
I think it has spread to my heart thus well.
Thunder sounds it's roar, and deafens the ears of the other creatures near,drowning my saddened & forgotten cries in its immortal ecstasy, so we may mask our voices together.
The lightless shadows of the forbidding clouds, plague the path I walk upon and swallow the presence I think is me in there gently dark curtains.
The lightning stretches it being across the sky to strike down fear of passers by, so that no one but the storm will brave my side.
The Wind howls through the mountains and tree's just to embody me in it's grasp, bringing with it the whispers of the world.
My path is shaded in a yellowish hue, lit by a thousand lightning bugs,they show me the way while I am lost,the path upon this floating field of gold I walk.
Imagination of Prettier DayI sit here now and stare I may, I can't imagine, A prettier day. The storm clouds are comeing & sunshine day is turning way. Moonlight is rising, the fairies they come to play, dancing & frolicking in a music you cannot hear, Poisen Ivy is becoming a flower and death is playing chess with god this hour.Checkmate they say as a dragon is saved & a man becomes a slave, Madness is strolling in the midnight hues hunting for a victim both old and new. Here comes the devil, fashioned in light,Caring with him, an invisible fright, an unwinable fight. The nymphs are drowning in there own lake, such a shame, I guess they'll be late. Mother nature is having tea with a human this eve, my oh my, what a party! Dancer and Prancer are playing pranks, while santa picks out a new pair of sleys. Sorrow and Pain, one and the same, are walking the planks for the pirate queen Shanks. Succubis is playing with all the men as they follow her in her flanks, the dead are rising and pigs are flying, a werewolf is
The Rose and It's GuardianLong ago there was a Guardian, who was told that he was to forever guard over and protect a rose.
In a grassy valley surrounded by the forest, a single tree grew in it's middle and by it the rose, and it was there the Guardian sat. In snow, In leaves, In wind, in heat... never onc
The Gentlemans Dance
A Goddess of fire and spice, the Goddess Coriander danced in the night, all who would see her would run with fright, but one gentlemen on a moonlight night, took out his hand to the lady, the Goddess, upon the broken stones, and asked her for a final dance, a single romance. The night was there music the moon there spotlight, the graves there audience and there hearts the witness's of the night the gentleman, danced with the Goddess for a single night.
Long ago in ancient times there was a Goddess that weighed the fates. She did it without mercy and cared not how they screamed when her fates dealed low. She cared not a single teardrop. That is until came the time she was to pass judgment upon a small child, a girl with fire ember hair. She had stolen bread from a market nearby and for this the goddess, cruel as she was, sentenced, and fated her to die. She expected the girl to cry, to plead for life, to fall upon her knees as death embraced her face. But she didn't! Instead she reached out her hand and touched the Goddess upon her face and smiled without disgrace as her small figure turned into the first snowflakes of winters rain. And the goddess, being the cruel fater she was, cried ice, for the first time.
Feeling for the first time so terrible and sad, she gathered the snow from which she had fated the girl and layed them into her scales, freezing in time forevermore, so they may never melt away.... and she turn hersel
Bleeding love in this heartless realm, bleeding in a body that is suppose to be cold, no love, nor hate, only time, only wait. I searched the stars a thousand times and saw nothing but flashing lights like the bright city street life, they all are the same, I am without a name. Fear and death, love and pain , hand and hand, nothing to be gained. The wish to fly, the desire to swim, the desire to be, greedy aren't we. Leaves from the cherry tree drifting through, silently, unlike you, so like me. A stare is spared but is forgotten as the bell tolls a second has passed. Future and present, past and unknown, knowledge we want , time we need. Dreams and hopes are all we have, bread and butter isn't shared, love me or hate me, the options of life. but I, for either, choose neither, I care not a single breath. stare and stare is all I shall do, but in the end, I am just You.
Moonlit Night Were have you gone, my Moonlit Night.
I am waiting here again, yet another night, under forest shadows, the midnight summer mist and forgotten wisps, surrounding me. I am waiting here for you. I cannot utter a word as the silent hours go by, the fairies and things of dream filled nights, dance around me for hope of a smile, but I only get lonelier and sadder with the sound of a wolf howl so far, so near. An illusion, that you are here. I can only speak one word of how these nights feel, but will you hear me? Or am I just an echo, never reaching. I don't know, but I do know, brother, I miss you so.
A Nail In My HeartIn my heart
There's a nail
Outside its core,
In my hand
There's a hammer
Leaving me a choice
To pull the nail free
Or leave it to rest
In the center of my soul.
And this nail
However deeply it stabs
Or loosely it traps
The litter of dreams
And hopes I've trapped inside,
Gathering them together
To be displayed like
A dying tribute
To a once loved species,
A once treasured creation,
Decides my fate
And traps my destiny.
And though I know the nail
Needs to be removed
To release my heart
Of its futile struggle
To hold a collection
Of dying memories,
Every time I feel the nail loosen
As I've grown to older,
Every time I grab that hammer
And smash it against
That obvious futilit
apollo, i am not for salestitch a pitch perfect sonnet of
into the infinity
of my ear canal. i
have a storm inside
me but no beaufort
scale, oh how i beg
to be impaled
with less appreciation
conviction; i am no
land and you
are a bulimic seeking
from the twenty one guns
at my unseen funeral.
only hope and Hecuba. feast
on my peace with me.
on my sermons
of affection, the ones
branded into my
chest with the sizzle
of experience. feast on my
numbness and this
raffleticket roll you received
and second-third-seventieth thoughts,
of exhuming my heart
and taping it back
into my spine.
(perhaps with a softer
tenant inside, from
each of my vertebrae
will come a spine that will not -
cannot - break)
feast on this hidden
feast on my will to
take all the things
you can only
you must give
back to me
of my civil war;
and mine. perhaps
someday you may
I'm having a bad day, I'm having a bad few years
inside I'm shouting loud but no one hears
I'm dying to tell you - can't you see
that all this anger is killing me
but it's a waste of breath
I give in - pain is all I have left
driven by revenge I want nothing but death
in life makes me think you are like the rest
my heart is bleeding in my chest
And no one notices in my case
so I pull away to a quiet place
'cause I'm tired of looking alright
I'm tired of smiling and saying I'm fine
Will you stand by my side?
with who are you allied?
'cause I wanna heal and be myself
I don't wanna feel like someone else
But I'm slowly fading
consumed by emotions - they've taken
the best of me, and happiness has forsaken
my dreams, my heart
it's taken my spark
cold and dark
trying to leave behind the past
I'm searching for an end
I hold out my hands - I'm not going to pretend
that life is easy
I'm hurting every day believe me!
MeanI used to live a normal, happy life.
I used to go outside almost all the time.
Until one day…
“He” showed up.
His name is Randal.
A lot of people spread rumours about him.
Some say that he came from the depths of Hell.
Others say that he’s the son of Satan himself.
At first I thought that was a bunch of trash.
But I quickly learned that those rumours might have been true.
For the first 3 weeks, he punished me for every little error he thought I did.
After the 3 weeks were over, I asked him a simple question:
“Why are you so mean?
What have I ever done to deserve such a fate as this?”
He only smiled and laughed at me.
He was never the big talker.
He always let his fists and feet do the talking for him.
Why do you have to be this way?
Is it something that I did?
Was it the way that I drank my water?
Or was it the angle that I flicked my clothes out at?
Those people were right about you.
You truly ARE the son of Satan.
Passage of the Years Dear Titanic, beautiful sister of mine,
I can barely believe it. Today marks the one-hundred and second year you have been the unwilling patron of the sandy sea-floor. One-hundred and two years.... What is it like? It must be so very dark. So very cold. So very lonely... I cannot even imagine how lonely you are. There is no one to keep you company. No one except the 1,500 souls that died with you, that is. Do you still hear their voices echoing within your halls? Do you still hear the disconnected laughter that only spirits of the dead can provide? What is it like? You are falling apart more and more. The sickle of time is having her way
Oh the things I wishStress
Run away to Neverland I must
Free from horror
Free from hell
Free from the devils
Oh the things I wish
A throne of my own
Peaceful music played in the air
Live like a king
Just for the day
There's A Knock On The Front DoorI heard a knock on the front door,
and I thought it was my soldier,
but it was only a letter
that didn't have a sender;
just an handwritten letter
left by my front door.
There comes a moment in life
where the glass ceiling crumbles and cracks
under the weight of a summer storm,
where the beauty of the world
fades to black and white and gray
as you stare off into the distance
too numb to think
and too shocked to question why.
When everything boils down to a moment -
when your past and your future
collide with each other
and obliterate the present,
when the things you had taken for granted
and you're just left with an empty shell,
a blank easel with no paper to draw on,
while paint is being thrown left and right
but you're untouchable,
just you, pure and white,
yet blacker than the ash you walk on,
the remnants of the explosion
that broke your heart and soul and mind.
That is the feeling
when there's a knock on the front door
and you think that it is your
I AmI am a square peg, in a world of only round holes.
I am out of place everywhere, at home nowhere.
I am a white rose growing on a bush of pink.
I am the fear everyone feels in the dark.
I am quartz among glass, yet glass among diamonds.
I am an empty bottle of ink to a new quill.
I am a penny, forgotten on the street, walked over.
I am a king to no people, a god to a non-believer.
I am fire to a flood, a single match to an iceberg.
I am the best I can be, but zero times anything is still zero.
I am that, and never more.
A Perfect WorldDescribe a perfect world?
Perfect - make something completely free from faults or defects,
Otherwise known as ideal, ultimate, flawless.
No matter how perfect the world may seem it will never be flawless.
There will always be hurt and heartache in the world,
And that’s okay with me.
Without corruption we would not be able to handle ourselves when something catastrophic happens.
We would not be the people we are today.
We can try to hide all the horrible things wrong with the world,
But that does not mean that by forgetting these things mean it never happened.
So why describe a perfect world when we should describe an acceptable world.
A world that can be tolerable.
That’s the type of world I would like to live in.
A world without senseless murder and war.
A world where everyone can be free to be themselves.
A world where we are treated the same,
No matter gender, race, or sexual orientation.
A world where we are equal.
A world where we are one.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More