Youbuild worldsbreak wallsbend timeto be mine
A Drowsy Kind of LoveThe night is quiet with your sleepingaglow from the heat of your dreamingas I gently nestle against your napeyour mouth ever so slightly agapewarm breath suffusing my wakefulnessas my fingertips linger on the surfacesthat soak up my nocturnal restlessnessand gift me with a longed for repose.
The Year AnewNight skies twinkle with the fire dust of pyromaniaas we down liquid gold libationsto inoculate against another year.
A Silent NightIt's quiet this Christmasno snow on the ground,the rain has stopped fallingand quiet is the soundof my heart as I lay sleepingdreaming you're awake,covering me with kisses--such sounds that lovers make;I am thankful we're togetherthough tonight we be apartfor tomorrow we meet againand love will fill our hearts.
Creationme here .. you therea doorway doth divide us--yet our hands move in tandemand strangers can never fathomhow the art we make unites us
AwakeInsomnia rends the night skywith dreamsof daybreak
Stay the NightSleep, my perfectionand I too will shut my eyeslike the moon mourns the light of dayso it can slip awayinto a union with the sky.Then the stars will wink at us from above,privy to our not-so secret love,and our slumber will resemblethe softest of waves as they tumbleinto each other with unbridled joy.As chilled air seeps into our shared dreams,we will nuzzle up and burrow deep,inhaling the scent of the freshly launderedbefore the hours are quickly squanderedby a sun that swiftly draws the night away.Yet fear not, my lovefor we have learnt to allay the dawn--when it cajoles the night to retreat,we smuggle the stars in cottony sheetsand covet the moon with our kisses.And the night will never feel as youngas when our bliss has sungthe lyrics of a life now lived as one.
ReunionI used to howl when twilight descended;my muse a yellow orb leading me--my guidepost in a sea of darknessso black my heart turned inkyfrom disuse.My paw prints created paths of dustand my tail swept them cleanas it hung so lowto match the bellowin my heart.The stars could not quell my yearning,which twinkled faintly till morningdrove me to fitful sleepingand the dew gathered like tearsweeping on a dull grey coat.Then, when my desire to live subsided,the sky at night turned lighterand my eyes gleamed brighteras winter carpeted the land in flakes of lace.And I heard his howlingeven before I spied him lollopingon banks of snow and ice,his hind legs carrying him to mein powerful long strides.Winter's embrace never felt more bracingthan it did that fateful morningwhen our noses met in a moist reunionand the skies turned a soft vermillionas our hearts finally intertwined.
My RewardYou are my quest--that beckoning in my RPG called lifethat detour from what I have charted.But the game was not wonby my following the trail of crumbslaid before me;the game was over when I met youfor I wanted to play no more,wanted no part of this existencethat plodded on with no investment of passion.There was no levelling up in my world--no little man in a suit and tie to save meto bend time and slow motionto piece together the puzzlesthat would lead to my happiness;no dark soldier swinging his oversized swordbattling the demons of emptinessto salvage my loneliness;no tiny robot fuelled by a loyal heartdoggedly searching for his true lovein a world of discarded parts.In a massive universe of multi-playersbattling the futility of existenceto attain an inscrutable treasure,I found you--a gem in a village of clans,a clue to lead me forward,an option when I had so few--for youare my extra life,you filled up my health barso I could break freefrom this endl
Sins of your fatherYou are not your father.You are not a killer because your father was a killer.You are not a king because your father was a great one.You should not be punished for your father's sins.You should not be respected too much for his deeds either.However your father brought you to this world,He gave you life and maybe a part of him is inside you.You have to prove this.If you want to honor his great deeds and clear his sins,If you want to be called with his name,and continue living in the house your father built,thenYou should pay your father's bills,Apologize for his mistakesandForgive to others the sins of your father.If not,Change your name,Leave all the goods your father earned,Leave the house he builtand Go.Go and start a new life.Again you have to prove that you are worthy of a new life.Go and Be a better man than your father.
DownfallAnd in this dark harvest of seasonMy life has completely lost reason,For which or against to decide.All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tideIn sadness and in kindnessIn light and in darkness.In a boat made of hopeI shall sail to tomorrow,In a winding hurricaneMade of treachery and sorrow.There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...Piercing, slashing though my head.Starting somewhere in heaven,Ending somewhere in hell.Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.Are the armies within.In my head they are all thrashing.On the heaven's and hell's whim.To be light or to be darkness.A perpetual array.It's not merely my choice,But the choice of the way.It's an option of the voice,It's a thin line of gray.Is it a choice forced by fate,Is it a pre-set time and date?Or a choice to which I myself sway?But here's our story anyway
."Nothing that I do will matter.As all things will merely shatter!"All my hopes thus darkness scatter,As it shoves me a decree.As it si
abouti.i want to tell youwhy i always writeabout my mother andnot my father.ii.i love poetry buti hate words;it’s like lovingair but hatingbreathing –(loving breathingbut hating throats)words are whatruin poetry. theymean nothing, andpoetry means everything.words talk, butthey don’t sayanything.(words reduce poetryto nothing.)iii.time slips throughmy fingers likebreaths through a sievebecause i don’tgrasp onto it.i have no will –the thought makesme suffocate fromexhaustion,sinks into the blackcircles under myeyes while i liein bed.time passes.(time is cremated.)iv.i always have problemswith the middleof the night –it’s because i lovesleepinglove dreamsdreams are what makeme different fromother people.my dreams for thefuture don’t exist, butmy dreams beneathmy consciousness arevivid and only comprehensiblewithout logic.v.plants alwaysdie in my house. it'ssomething that wedo together, my
JesusI know you onlyexistfor people likeme,I know I've hungthe phone upa couple times,but it's better thanmy head --right?
Is It Love?If I hugged you,would you never let go?If I kissed you,would you cherish that moment?If I reached for your hand,would you take mine gently?If I needed a shoulder,would you let me cry on yours?If I needed to talk,would you really listen?If I needed to scream,would you do it with me?If I needed to go,would you come with me?If I fell for you,would you catch me?or just let me hit the pavement?
OC Meme*Copy this into your Meme..-Choose 10 of your OC's-Answer the questions-Then tag 3 people---126.96.36.199.188.8.131.52.9.10.---1.) 3, 7, 4, and 9 go ice skating. What happens?2.) Its Christmas!!! 5 throws a christmas party and invites three people of choice. Who does he/she invite? What happens?3.) 6 catches 2 dancing/singing to the 'spice girls'. What's 6's reaction?4.) 1 and 10 are stuck in a janitor's closet. How the crap did they get in there?5.) 4 confesses his/her love for 8. What happens?6.) 3 walks in to see 6 and 7 making out in 3's closet.. What is their reactions?7.) 9 and 5 have an argument that soon turns into a fist fight. How did it start? And How does 2 try to break it up?8.) 6 and 7 are getting married! But 8 is in love with 7. What does 8 do?9.) You here a knock on your door. You open it to see every one of your OC's bursting in to your home. What do you do?10.) 2 admits to you that he/she killed 9. What do you do?11.) Everyone gat
7. heaveni find myself blindedby the smallestof things –plastic rice bowls &a negligible soft-drink addiction –smudged glasses lenses& too many mandarinsthere are things thatact in the place ofthe ideal,quick fixes that worklonger than they wereever supposed to.my ceiling light isbroken – i use twodimmer desk lamps instead.the roof over my roomleaks during storms –i lay old showercurtains on the carpet.and when 1am is theonly time i do not feelsilenced to a voidof words,i pick up a pen, exhausted,and tell myself ( this is how it is meant to be. )
I think of youAs suns set afar and mountains flameAnd eagles, turning, turn to fireAsh cold, alone I lieAnd think of you.
Reasons We Love Homestuck“Reasons we love H O M E S T U C K.”[Free-style poem]Why do this love this web comic, you ask?Maybe it’s just the way the fandom rolls,or how mean Andrew Hussie trolls.It could possibly be Eridan’s accent (WWyeh?)or even Feferi’s keyboard trident. (---E)Some people say it’s Equius’ broken bows and arrows, ( D →)but what about Nepeta’s meows and roleplays? (:33 <)We really do love Sollux’s lisp,and also when Karkat’s pissed. (FUCKASS!)Including Kanaya's fabulous lipstick,it's also Rose's amazing magic.How about when Dave starts rappingand Jade Harley begins napping?We love Vriska’s eight-pupiled eye,and how John is such an adorable guy.Or maybe it’s with all the spritesor how prospit glows bright.Can’t forget about Derse’s darknessor Gamzee and all his soberness. (WHOOPS.)There’s also this thing with Tav and stairswhich he t
My BabySerene in your slumberyour eyes like twin commason a face that tells meyour heart is happy.And I glow inside.