A Dreamsit right down,A Dream
and sit right here and i'll order you one glass of beer
no beer you say? a bit of wine to lighten your day?
well then, dear ask the waiter for some tea,
black perhaps, and to bring us out misery
in a glass for all thats past and all that is last
what is it you say? a dance upon the floor?
your shoes will most abhor
do it anyway you say? very well you best not give me hell
strides across, prancing left towards the door dancing right, back to the floor
spinnin
SalamagranaThe Fire. The Pyre. The Lady. And the Inferno; Of the Burning of Ages, and the Great Conflagration of the InamoratasSalamagrana
before the sun rose to greet the pale the pale looked down from its reflection as it came; rushed and sudden, too quickly did it weave thy tale and toil did it, and in this fantastic conflagration of light and fire stood ye in all your simple solemnity and from your feet bore cracks, from your body, poured brimstone from your hands leaked fire and in your eyes there was only the pyre it was a pleasure to burn, in this inferno, from since the ember from whence it was bourne
Written for the One(I only just now found this is what is now my english notebook for school. I remain unsure about who this was for, as i only wrote in this script and wrote in pencil from one year ago, until the end of tenth grade. And the two should know who they are. And if they don't, something is dearly wrong. Yet it leans to one who said to me that she would try to decipher what i had written. Although i cannot say i expect her to ever take action on those words. I can hope though, can't i? However, yet still, i speak of april, which halted soon after the third april, the first being that day where i died.)Written for the One
((Please notice that i did seem to
Good Night
Depressed
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The Life follows the Time, but the Memory can stop the Time.
The Thought can be reflected through the Sight.
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Attention, all of my worst critics
Who were once the best of friends:
You're all just crows on the power lines.
Hoench
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Attention, all of my worst critics
Who were once the best of friends:
You're all just crows on the power lines.
--
if you want to find out whats behind these cold eyes, you just might have to claw your way through this disguise
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