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Rainy DayAs I sit here and stare out the window, waiting for the skies to clear, listening to the silence drive on. Something starts to fall, rain. Water from the skies above. What is this noise I hear? Such peace from all this chaos? No wonder the trees dance with this music. I walk towards my door, it opens suddenly as my hands pull on it. My body no longer listening to the reason of my mind but following the music of the rain. Out I run! Splashing water up into the air with each step to joining the countless drops already falling. I stare up into the sky of clouds and black of night. My cloths, of little I had on, stuck to my body like glue as I stood still, feet cold, heart warm. Bright flashes of light dance around me as I walk on, my eyes closed, hands stretched out in front of me, they are my eyes. Sight did no justice to the beauty of the sound, the feeling, the smell, the taste of it all. God must pity me to have given me this joy, even for a night if only that. A bright flash, all aro
AmaranthineCast your dreams
To your body's tide
When your mind opens wide
All things end
Yet there's no goodbyes
From within your own eyes
How far gone? (Updated)Just because there's words
Doesn't mean there's a thought behind them.
(The slate was wiped clean.)
Just because my eyes are open
Doesn't mean I'm awake.
(I fell asleep long ago.)
I may be hearing
But that doesn't mean I'm listening.
(I've tuned into another station frequency.)
I may have been touched
But that doesn't mean I feel.
(I'm long past numb.)
Though I eat
I shan't taste.
(The food has been bland since before this.)
I wouldn't want to wake up.
(Your world is terrifying.)
My mind's eyes are completely closed
I like where I am.
(My world is nice. My world is safe. They can't get to me here.)
I'm in my bubble.
How far gone am I?
I can't take
All the pain I see.
(It shouldn't effect me.)
I feel like screaming
At the world.
(As if that would do anything.)
It's like torture
(Because I can't help you. I don't know how.)
So I'm hurting.
(I feel lost, you're always my constant.)
What do I do?
How can I help you?
(Please don't go! I need yo
SmileI am the clippings.
The shards and the trimmings.
The thrown away and wasted, stitched and pasted.
Lost and Fragmented.
But I'll put on a smile and pretend I'm not dented.
The Moon in VirgoThe Moon in Virgo
She wore Mercury on her lips;
For when the visions came
the madness left a poisonous taste in the mouth
and rotten teeth
There was once a sweet and youthful
element, as is the case with women,
But she lost her worth in societal eyes
long before twenty two.
Now she is eighty six
with no husband to determine her path;
The stars do it well enough.
Even the sun shines in a way
that allows her to regain stolen beauty,
Without the use of too much rouge.
Astrology became a science when God abandoned her,
Many would argue he was never there.
A distant relative was burned as
a witch of sorts,
But she is not bitter.
The tea she takes helps her to forget;
To drift off to sleep in a manner so sweet
that she cries to dream once more upon waking.
What do I write?I don't know what to write.
There's so much on my mind,
So many things that could take flight!
But I don't know what to write.
I could talk about inadequacy.
How I was lazy and immature and didn't listen in school.
How I don't have much vocab and my grammar is as useful as a broken tool.
How I don't write much because I'm afraid of appearing as a fool.
I could speak on inadequacy.
Then there's always anger.
How people say I'm good at art when all I see is a twelve year old's lines.
How my freedom is restricted and I'm just confined to two places.
How my friends don't respond and I sit here in stasis.
Yeah. I could write about anger.
But how about guilt?
How I've been such a asshole to my family in recent months.
How I've not stayed in touch with the friends who're living in hell.
How I screw up often and end up hating myself and not leaving my shell.
I don't know.
Maybe I just care too much.
Writing at OxfordBetween the dusty pages of
drunken novellas and tragic plays,
a small ferret creeps and a young girl strays.
Enticed by a fantasy mirror and
lightly cut by a subtle blade,
the fabrics between worlds gently part
and literature is new and made.
A delicate array of alternate ideas
welded together within the parchment of a book.
Be careful how far you peer between
the never-ending lines of flowing ink.
Beware of your ever changing daemons and
ensure you don’t fall for their trick.
For they would have you think that
there is nothing more behind these shelves.
The truths they do hastily conceal as
there is more than you could ever believe.
Keep your friends closer, your enemies closer still.
You’ll never know where you may meet as
you hide behind your wandering quill.
Wo willst du hin?Sie suchte sich
Sie versuchte sich
versuchte zu finden
Sie fand sich
fand sich nicht
Nord Ost Süd West
wer sollte sie
sollte sie nachhause bringen
wer sollte sie festhalten
denn es machte keinen Sinn
um einfach zu warten
On Wax WingsSpeak not softly
of your troubled fate
Huddled late, cross at the
Loss of doubled rates
Prostitute your sorrows
til the morrow can't come
Mind: scant and numb,
You borrowed some horrors
For you to Tell, See, Believe
Starve her beastly cheap when she's deceived,
Upheaved and ruptured,
As you yet corrupt her,
Leave her upstirred in life's broken structures
Who ever said you can see beyond the sun?
Beyond the moon, the sword, and beyond the gun?
Who ever claimed you could walk the seven seas
Through heaven's fire and through its dreaded breeze?
And thread with ease a Gordian knot at whim, known,
While playing your accordion hot with prim tones,
and prone to the thoughts of the world before you
Kneel, adore you to the core you deplore through?
Prostitute your every degradation
Blame it all off with prevarication
Declare with patience that you just can't face it
Deny your dishonesty, then embrace it
You harmed me,
Lied, defied, denied
And tried to get by
on wax wings to fly too high
requests and (my art can be used for your art)Update 3 and requests are always open
first off I want to thank everyone for watching and commenting
I enjoy the thanks for all of u
any and all requests are open for anyone of anyteam
in can be
Just don't overflow on requests just one at a time
I am an artistI am an artist. I create worlds and characters. I give life to that which was never born, doesn't exist, and never will be. I do this all for the hope that one day, someone will look at my work and be moved by it. Moved to smile, to cry, to laugh. Let them feel the rush of emotions that came from a heard that will never exist, that will never be, that was never born. Let them love and cherish my work, so that one day it may live on long past the time when anyone remembers my name. Let that soal I made with a pencil and paper be the one who lives such a live that even I would be moved by their stories. I shall take my time, master this craft and fill the empty space with worlds upon worlds until time itself has little meaning and the dreams and hopes of the little few within these world s are shared by everyone who takes the time to glance their way and see this live. This, is what I do. I am an artist.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More