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The Children of the MoonAs the gaze of the moon bathes you
In its mysterious charm and hue
The beauty of the dark,
Of vampires and werewolves,
Of all the primal fears and overtures.
The solace of the night
Envelops us in a tight embrace.
We see the light and the dark,
The Beauty and the beast,
Together in a soulful entreat.
For when the hunter gazes
At the eyes of the hunted,
The moment before the kill,
All else is forgotten,
But only love for the befallen..
Happiness, Materialism, InspirationIn this silence,
I hear an echo..
The call of purity
And unfathomable perfection.
I, a materialist, a man of destiny,
Should I heed this call?
Monster in a mirror,
A world of shackles,
Scented and seductive.
I, a materialist, see luxury
And happiness in the hearts of men.
I beg to see a delusion,
A ripple in a pond, a break in the wave.
I, a materialist, a man of reality
Where dreams are any man's envy,
How small our dreams were.
Alas, the world is not enough
To those who see it as two.
Dual comes to pass,
Dreams turn into illusions in reality,
A melancholy goes unheard...
A child awakens,
Atlantis is near.
The EndDig your nails into your skin, feel their harshness crawl within.
Scratch and tear the flesh apart, for here begins a fresh new start.
See the pink, the red, and the blue, grab a knife, you know what to do.
Remove the organs, hear the tears, scream and wail for further repairs.
And now you're down to your heart, tear it out to end and restart.
A Dream of FlyingI wished that I could fly
Into the great big blue sky
With the hawks and eagles
Pigeons, doves and seagulls
Above the world of dirt and trees
Soaring over the clouds and seas
Searching for the perfect height
In the clouds to spend the night
Resting my head upon the soft grass
To see the dream end in a flash
I woke on the soft sheets of cotton
It was a dream never to be forgotten
That night was sweet and lasted forever
I could never wish for a better dream
And that is the end or so it seems
EphemeralIn shallow realms of forgotten names
I stand alone in awe and, as I die,
A flicker of old, shattered dreams now lie
In front of my invisible remains.
And as I try to see what they had been,
To read their name and all their sweet despair,
In isolation I lose all the air,
While broken letters slowly can be seen.
But what they say is what I mostly fear,
The truth of all my life and of my name.
They tell that I am nothing and I came
Merely to die and now my end is near.
So I renounce to all that I have had,
My name, my mind and all my foolish dreams,
And, as now nothing have I left, it seems
That I am thoroughly and truly dead.
musicDuring sadness you are there
During happiness you are there
During depression times you are there
During times when i m just emotionless
I get overflowed with emotions thanks to you
During times when I shed tears you are there
I m grateful to you...
Even without people around me
You are there for me
Thanks to you I can't feel lonely
My life just goes on thanks to you
I will never leave you
But live for you…
AddictionSolitary comes banging on the wall
The woman head down, defeated, cowering from fear
Acknowledging all the knowledge from all
The problems, troubles, issues never seem to disappear
Consequences of the actions brought onto the future generation
Instrument of death hazing up her vision
Two voices fight without a single conversation
Her own foolishness greeted her final decision
Shimmering liquid remains of unfilled hopes and dreams
The action grew despair to peek over the horizon
Though it leads to underwhelming sympathies
By others who perceive a darker person who has risen
This world, her reality, her youth
No light as she faces her unforgivable truth
Pokemon Fanfic -Prequel-: Chapter 1Beep. Beep. At that moment, 8:30 AM on February 12th, I had two main concerns on my mind. The first of those concerns was that my alarm clock would shut up already. My second, as well as my greatest, concern was that it was finally my tenth birthday, which meant that I would finally become old enough to train my very own Pokemon.
Oh, sorry. Did I forget to introduce myself? Fine. My name is Clara, and, like I said earlier, I will be starting out as a Pokemon Trainer today. My appearance is nothing special, really. My hair is short-ish and light brown, and honestly, it’s, um...kind of boring. As for my eyes, they’re light brown, and, once again, are boring. I live in a small house in Ecruteak City with my mom and seven year old brother, Hiro.
Okay, back to the story now.
Like I said before, I can’t tolerate my alarm clock very well. Therefore, I sat straight up in my bed and glared at it. “I’ve had just about enough of you,” I murmured as I hit
And what if for you I built a garden?
In there where we would know a private freedom,
The priceless peace without end,
And a patch of Heaven to cover the bruises of time.
There you would find all your dreams of us,
And then more to add as we go along,
Skimming carelessly over the grass…
Free without shame, hand in hand in love.
And what if I grew for you the flowers of all your favorite colors?
Blossomed and alive, their scent filling the air…
I would create a beating heart in its center,
A pond of warm stone, and a fountain to give it life.
I would lay with you in a hammock beneath the shade,
holding close the love that is my own,
feeling every beat of the happy heart,
and allowing my eyes to shut to let my senses roam.
All around would we here nothing but the song of nature,
And the passion of the connection between us…
Therein where we can recreate Eden with our hands,
Our laughter, our touch, our tears, our love…resonate
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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