Melody in My MindShhh...Listen...Do you hear it?rustling trees,buzzying bees,summer breezesomeone's sneeze...voice of street,hearts that beatpeople breathe,then repeatRhythm set free:one two threeone two threehear the songdance with meThere's melody in my mindMagical melody, murmuring, moodyMusical mystical moving melodyThere's melody in my mindBut shh....Listen...I'll tell you a secret.I cannot sing.Imagine that feeling.Those tones frozen between your mind and mouth, that melody you can't express.Imagine one of those songs that give you goosebumps, that clutch your heart and make you cry "Yes! Yes, that's it!"Imagine you want to share it with everyone... but can't.When you try to repeat the melody, it is off and quavers and screeches like nails on the board.There's melody in my mind, and it wants to be heard, to be set free.And so I paint.The colors are my symphony.I sound the violins of sky-blue, the lutes of green and drums of violet.And so I write.The words on pape
The Power of Wordsa gentle whisper on the wind,carries across nations,through homes and across cultures,a simple play on speech pulling heart strings,a gentle rhythmic lull in your ear,even the sweet sound of silence calls to you,"a pictures worth a thousand words",yet a single word can tell infinite stories,end wars,bridge cultures,and unite families,a single word may change the world,as can the neglect to say it,a single word but once uttered,can span the vast flow of time,and carry on into eternity,words speak to the soul,and connect people in remarkable ways
Witch's BrewBubble bubble toil and troubleeye of newtits the witching hour.Its the witching hourwhere the witches are in a gitty moodmaking new potions.A dash of frog's lipsscale of dragonwings of a gremlinstir them all into a cauldron.Witches just love making potionsthey got so many viels on their shelvesyou can find all that you seek at the witch's cottage.Make your true love fall for youthere's a love potion that'll do the trickwant to be a few inches tallerthere's a growth potion to help with thatjust be careful not to drink it allthat is if you want to be a giant.Witches love the time of hourmaking their potions with wick
Death's True KissYou fall in love with a ghostAnd dream yourself an islandYou take me for a homeBut cast and torn apartFill me up with a whisperTake me for a friendDead or aliveIt all comes to endThose visions I've seen Oh, so many timesSee me in dreamThat only comes to lifeYou've known me beforeSo know me againLike the diamond you once beenLight and inflamedSlice me with silenceShed tears of mudFill me my requiem Take me for noneOutcast and dethronedI will still hold my groundForbidden and aloneI too will brake downNo matter my saviourHold with dead lipsThose words that I whisper Death's true kissWith love there you fight m
Living :Conest Entry:To say man is sinful, doesn't seem to quite say it.Because all that brings to mind is blasphemers, fornicators, God-haters--all of us.But to say man is dead, is all the more accurate Because a corpse can't feel sympathy, it can't hear cries for help.It tastes not, hears not, handles not, it becomes as lifeless as the very idol it worshipped.No, to say man is sinful doesn't seem to quite sayBecause he who identifies as a cadaver can't hope to know who he really is.That's why my endeavors are heavenly, and my ID is "Living Among the Dead" Because I know Christ gave me life so I could feel your pain even though find it pleasurable, To se
Who I amWho I Am&Who I Want To Be,are so far away from each other it hurts.
Twerping BirdiesI. not a morning personTwerping birdies, chorping away at the dayAs if I were supposed to be awakeAt the crack of noon.Cheerful construction workers obliterateThe restful silence, encouraged, perhaps, By the bad example of the twerping birds.There's plenty of rest for the wicked, But none at all for me; let the early birdGorge itself on wormy guts for all I care.II. insomnia blueslike unto the gentle, polyphonic susurration of the wind through the leaves of the sibylline vuvuzela tree, the evocative, resonant, goldurned whiny two-strokeof the kargyraa engine of progress that powersthe early morning hunting call of the ove
vengeance for injusticea mother she cries cries at the war now she waits waits for the call of the soldiers orders to kick down her door vengeance she took filled with hate for her husband and child who couldn't be saved now she's locked in a cellshe buried her son they put her through hellbut it's okay the rich man won
cirque de nuitanfangs ein rauschen am nachthimmelso geschehen vom flattern der wimpel imhalbdunkel und dem klagenden streichton einersingenden säge.genommen und verstecktverloren und gefallenund ein riss der das zurückkommennicht möglich macht.ein bild unter glasgetrübt - verhangen wie weisses Metall.( hast du das licht vergessen- hast du?)die leine baumelt mechanischam hilflosen arm.ein atmen - stockend und menschlich fast(etwas pocht herzähnlich)ein raunen geht durch unsichtbare reihenenttäuschend wie ein sprung ohne boden.verlierst du dich verlierst du mich auchund haben wir schon uns beide verlo
The Ugly TruthI'm not a miracle worker, I'm not superwoman, I'm a broken, 17 year old girl, who has no idea where shes going in life.And I'm scared.
An angelAn angelWhat is an angel?An angel is the little boywho's head is barefrom his sicknessbut he shows no despairhe hasn't lost lifeonly his hairAn angel is a kittenthat snuggles up to youafter a hard dayit seems to sense what you've been throughit will never judgeit's care is trueAn angel is youwhen you're of right heartwhen noone knows what to dothere to make a starthelp is neededalways take partAn angel is stuffed toythat you tell everythingwhat you have doneand where you have beenalways listensnever accusingAn angel is in every cornerin every spaceyou just have to lookin the right placeto be without angelsis never the caseAn angel is a friendwhom you're happy to seewhenever you're sickmakes you a cup of teaalways there for youyou know they won't leaveAn angel is the little thingsthe ones for you onlyand the ones that you shareyou'll never be lonelyif you learn to findthe big little things solelywith heart and mindAn angel is hopean angel is
LEAVE ME ALOUNEI've said this once I've said this twice leave me alone or paythe price. I've said thisthree times I've said it fourNOW LEAVE ME ALUN BEFOR I SHUTYOUR FINGERS IN THE DOOR
Grand Ball for FoolsI keep bashing my head against this same goddamn wall,over and over again,I let myself fall,and I can't even fight,dearI can't even crawl,because your hands in my chest,keep making my heart stall,and i won't ever die, dear,even though the reaper stands near and tall,I'll always be your pretty little puppet,although when you're bored of this my name you won't recall,so i'll be cast away like a bag in the breeze,And i'll perish finally of the hate you forced me to install,with my last breath I'll still curse you-no myself.For I knew since the beginning that this waltz wasn't worth my pain at all.
GunshotOne bulletThe gun is loadedPointed at my headWill you pull the trigger?
A Friendpeople change at a rapid pacebut i know that until the enddespite the problems we may facein you i'll always have a friendthere's never been another youand never will be, on this earthso i will miss, that much is truei love you, friend, for all it's worthwhen the day comes that we must partand we reach the end of this life-long endeavoryou'll always remain in my heartand we'll be intertwined foreverso keep in mind as you go outto do great things, whatever they bethat i will be here, without a doubtyou'll always have a friend in me
i'm alright. been better.