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Dying dancerswhat a lovely dancer,Dying dancers by imaginaryphoenix
riddled with cancer,
her movements slow,
as she missed the winter snow,
oh what a lovely dancer,
she fell to her knees,
with a terrible scream,
he turned to hear,
there was nothing but her silent tears,
oh what used to be the lovely dancer,
now just a memory,
buried in a lonely cemetery
Lukewarm WineKnife vertical thrust between the temples.Lukewarm Wine by BackShelfSouvenir
Spoon dose twice a day ‘til the headache subsides, forget the forks.
Lukewarm wine; molding shape the bread.
Rooms in this home scatter like a lost pup circling the fire hydrant
while flames engulf the dollhouse mansion.
Went from running with a pack of wolves to cat napping without them.
*Ring ring* *Ring ring* *ring-*
I pick up the phone with a grown-up approach,
“Hi mom, I pulled a woman outta a hat and sawed her in half.”
She said, “That’s good, you’re always in my prayers.”
I said, “No, I’m always in the streets and now I’m on the run.”
She said, “I’ll talk with you next Sunday, I love ya, son.”
Boiling water and drops of blood dissolve………eventually.
(I wonder if I’ll float)
I’ll drown with a life jacket strapped on me.
(But I’m an angel, I swear to God)
I’ll fall with these wax wings attached to me.
Well, any ange
.:Never Known, Out:.Short info: ( and ) = conflict inside of the mind of the writer and the bold is the bad part of the conflict and the italic is the writer, and regular text in that area is the voices of those that desire to help. And ( and ) = side voices.:Never Known, Out:. by GurRaeye
You never could have known,
The pain and suffering,
I put myself through.
I uttered those words.
Agony filled me,
As I spoke about past pains.
Tears flooded my eyes,
You wouldn't have know,
These vial deeds,
Of my own making,
They torment me,
With every relapse,
Of the same old mistake.
How could you have known,
Before I uttered,
Those words to you?
I try to drown out my sorrows,
Just to listen.
I try to drown out my sorrows,
With my works,
But how can I drown out,
The ever lasting pain,
With every relapse?
It tears me apart,
The pain inside.
(How could I have been so foolish?!
Why did I even do that?
Understanding As I try and sleep tonight, two things come into my mind. One is my economics test tomorrow, and the other is about my writing.Understanding by infinitywarriorinc
All I did, had done and will do, revolved around some sort of romantic setting, usually with two different species involved. I knew not why, and for the longest of times, I didn't question it.
So, after a year of animes and mangas, I still find myself preferring romantic settings with different species involved (often nekos, or otherwise.) I asked myself, about two weeks ago, "Why do I enjoy this?"
The questions sprang about in my head: "Is it because I cannot understand what 'love' means?"; "Is it because of my fascination with the possibility of other sentient species?"; "Or perhaps, it just differs from the norm, and it intrigues me more and more?"
Then, I hadn't an idea of what it meant or what it was. But tonight, I think I finally understand. The romance, the Romeo & Juliet, the youkai and the h
1984 Through Music 1984 Through Music1984 Through Music by GoodTiming
Music has the ability to either reflect or inspire with just a simple tune or complicated melody. Whether it comes from an mp3 player, phonograph, or a live band, people constantly turn to music to release the day's stresses and inspire themselves with new ideas. A song has a power that allows anyone to interpret their own meaning and apply it to daily life. For Winston Smith, a Party member in George Orwell's 1984, music allows him to see simplicity and beautiful in a frightening, ugly, and utterly hopeless world. Through songs in the novel, Winston is able to hope for a brighter tomorrow, see respect for the true past, and highlight stronger negative emotions.
Sometimes, music can be used to convey a sense of tragedy or negative emotion. It can reflect a broken spirit through a haunting melody or meaningful lyrics. Orwell plays on this in a scene where Winston sits in the Chestnut Tree Café. He observes three men, J
The Goddess's Forsaken Island - First ContactThe Goddess's Forsaken Island - First Contact by pwassonne
That's it. It should be over there.
Except it isn't.
Actually, wasn't there originally more than one? Like, three of them?
The elevator will be broken, of course.
I haven't been on the island many times, but I remember it quite well, from seeing it through my Goddess's eyes. This time, it will be the other way round. I was repairing my little house, just a normal house, and then I remembered the island. A long time ago, the Goddess left this world. It seems like the island has been deserted ever since.
(And then my Goddess says, I wonder if people settled on it.
That would be fun.
But I'm skeptical.)
The elevator is indeed broken. About half the wooden platform is gone, and there's water everywhere, flowing, I forgot to bring a bucket, there's no way I can get to the basement, never mind, it could be worse. At least there isn't any lava.
I swim away.
The waterfall is right there, and I'm not sure if that's where it's supposed to be. Never mind. It's a long way
Forbidden Fruit"What are you doing?"Forbidden Fruit by mirz-alt
He was standing behind her and she could hear gentle movements, like shifting of cloth. Suddenly soft fabric fell across her eyes. She could feel it tighten around her head as he pulled and knotted it behind her.
"I don't understand?" she asked. She wasn't scared, but a bit of apprehension was creeping into her bones.
She could feel him move in front of her. He was standing close and his hand brushed her cheek. "I want to kiss you," he admitted, his voice both nervous and self-assured.
"But..." she argued, not sure what to say beyond that sole word. She knew she couldn't. She knew she shouldn't.
"See no evil," he murmured.
She didn't understand, but she trembled as he moved towards her.
"It's not a sin if you don't know who's kissing you," he whispered.
As his lips met hers, her heart raced, her arms pulling him close.
"The sin is not in the kissing, " she countered softly, as he pulled away. "The sin is in the wanting it."