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One of those nightsIt's one of those nights were my eyes won't close,
were tears keep dripping down my nose.
It's one of those nights were everything's wrong but I can't explain why,
When the light burns out all I'm left to do is cry.
It's one of those nights were I panic at the slightest sound,
Were under the air I feel like I'm drowned.
It's one of those nights were I can't seem to breathe,
Were I choke and I heave, I just want to leave.
It's one of those nights were I can't stop thinking,
I'm slowly falling, I'm drowning, I'm sinking.
It's one of those nights were there are no lights in the sky,
Were I feel grounded when I just want to fly.
It's one of those nights were everything comes back,
All the dark thoughts that shroud your mind in black.
It's one of those nights were I'm too scared to dream,
For once it's ends, I'll wake up, and scream.
The fame gameShy and quiet, is what you are,
Yet is see you dreaming to be a star.
Basking under that radiant spotlight,
Smiling as your lips gently dust the mic.
I see you glow as your passion flares,
You melt all fears, you have no cares.
But tell me now as your growing strong,
Never missing a note in each and every song.
Was it really necessary to change your name,
Will it really gain you fame?
They told you that your own wasn't cool or acquit
But your stage name doesn't really seem to fit.
The wig and make up are a good gimmick
But for you I don't really think your with it
I'll admit I'm happy for you,
But as far as personalities go I think you have two.
The fame monster seems to be growing inside
You can run but you can't hide.
And the fact that your acting like you're hot shit
You're getting there, but you're not quite it.
Watch this space.
To late I've seen enough.
Can't be savedBound by pain, torn inside
Worrying feelings are coming alive.
A storm is forming inside my heart
I can't breathe, I'm falling apart.
"Come help me" I scream as I fall from the sky
You reach out to catch me, then wave goodbye.
I can hear your laughter ringing in my ears
I can hear the demons whispering my fears.
I try to call out, in a desperate plea
But I know you can't save me.
I want to go back, to change it all
It's all to late I've started to fall.
I never even said farewell,
As I fall to the gates of hell.
I cursed myself, for that is true
There's so much more I wish you knew.
The song of the Magpie One for sorrow, two for joy.
What once was joyful, is now just sorrow.
The bitter taste of today, is stale for tomorrow.
A heavy drowse of a now distant past,
Faded memories, of passings so fast.
Three for a girl, four for a boy.
There once was a girl who fell in love,
Who had a heart as pure as a soaring dove.
She met a boy with a heart of gold,
Hard, metallic and awfully cold.
Five for silver, six for gold.
She was promised silver, diamonds and stones,
Yet all she received was brass, ash and bones.
She found the gold, in the best of others.
Giving love and strength to her sisters and brothers.
Seven for a secret never to be told.
Lies were formed and secrets kept
Serpents whispered while she slept.
She let nothing bother her, had struggles a few.
Though legend says for joy, you must see two.
The kissIt starts off slow, with a light brush of my face
Pulling me close in a warm embrace
Your hands on my waist as you pull me on top
Up on your lap is were I hop
I look deep into your shining eyes
As both your hands caress my thighs
I lean forward and you lean in
And this is were the kiss begins
Soft and gentle as you find your pace
My little heart starts to race
A fiery passion starts to grow
And there's no signs of this beginning to slow
Kissing harder now, discovering your lips
With your hands resting on my hips
Stopping only for the need of air
I run my fingers through your hair
No more scars that I have to bare
They fade away as if never there
I began to writeI began to write a verse filled with spite, filled with anger and utter betrayal.
I began to write how I was truly hurt and all the wrongs that had been done to me.
I began to write to protest on everything you had done, to shame you, to blame you.
But as I began to write I seen that nothing worked, that I had filled the page with a vile and hateful verse.
I had seen that what I had began to write was the beginning of a fight, a beginning of a war that would only hurt both sides.
So instead if fighting fire with fire, I extinguished the flame, and made a white flag for my soul.
I took a step back from my fiery attack.
And I began to write this.
Take a walk with me.To the end we shall go, were ever it may be,
Take me down the path less travelled, walk me through the sea.
The broken glass of crackled hearts, were bare feet may tread,
Along side the river of the dammed, the water coloured red.
Hollow bones and bullet holes litter the sandy plain,
Dried blood is the mark that only death may reign.
Yet here we stand in fire and smoke,
Drowning in it's gentle choke.
and off I'll sail.
To a valley of eternal bliss.
My WingsMoving on to better things, I'm so happy I found my wings
No need for tears, no sinking fears.
A burning passion comes in roaring fashion.
A smile I bear, free without a care.
No broken hearts, or scaring marks.
I'm moving on to better things, no more rocks upon my wings.
Teacher's pet peeve.You loathe me, you really do,
I know my presence just bothers you.
Those evil glares and little digs,
All those things to make you big.
You can poke and you can prod,
Then preach your words about your god.
You can act the little saint,
But that's something you just ain't.
You can pretend that I'm not there,
And then act like you treat us fair.
Questions of a wider scope,
Get a "no further questions" and a bible quote.
Crow like demeanour you wallow in pride,
No pity you offer, as you throw the carcass aside.
That burning hatred of me, you truly despise,
That roaring fire in your eyes.
Now tell me Miss, as it's clear to see,
Why do you really hate me?
I See ThingsI see them walking. I always see them. Maybe it’s because they’re always there. Maybe other people are too busy doing other things to notice that I’m simply, looking outwards. Simply observing the eyes of owls in sharp twig nests. I once saw people being taken into the arms of younger bones under sunken sheets. I saw a painting and stared at it for an hour or so. And they told me that other people needed to see. But I knew nobody else would relish the image as I would so I refused. I wasn’t always like this. Only recently did I start seeing a lot of things. Kept myself out of conversations to avoid arguments. I merely observed them. Kept my mouth tied, my eyes wide. Starting talking in less and less sentences until it all just, stopped. But my eyes, oh never did they stop, never blink for a dark tired world around them. I’ve seen so many things; I’ve forgotten most of them over the years. Time carried memories into darker spots where I couldn’t
Living on Your KneesWar has swift feet, it's agents have quick minds. And soon, emissaries have stated their ultimatum before the throne.
The Emperor is standing before his throne, his face stern with anger, as he looks upon these men shouting his defiance "Better to die on one's feet, then live on your knees!"
I raise my eyes from the bottom platform, my knees calloused, a smile playing my face.
I am a slave. Bred into it, born unto it. I know no other view then the one from my knees. From on one's knees many things are seen differently, perhaps even how they truly are. When one is not taken with the Sun in the sky, one can view what is happening on the ground underfoot.
And, is this not also the view shared by both the servant and the wise man? Standing, one can see many ways men are treated. Kneeling, one sees even more.
The smile still plays upon my face as I turn to look up at the Empero
ParallelI woke to a hollowing ache inside as they told me of an infinite universe. Of parallels and perpendiculars and a destiny to love. Stories and worlds untold and as it unfolds…
I am lost.
They asked if I believed in reincarnation. I laughed. They were serious. Perhaps? Maybe? How could I know? They told me that a heart lives a thousand lives. Each time the heart seeks the same soul. Sometimes it finds them. Sometimes they find it. Sometimes they never find eachother.
But the saddest of all, my friend, the one that aches the most- the heart and soul are born into different lives, different lines ; not parallel but perpendicular; a single point where they meet and become one, only to be lost as they travel along into the void.
They asked if I understood.
I told them it was only a dream.
I woke to a hollowing ache inside.
Brain Death! Don't Hold Your Breath for ParadiseI sigh, and answer my friend's question. "If there is a heaven, I mean I don't wanna say that there is one if I don't know there is one, but if there is one, I want to end up in a big chill club, without realizing where I am, just remembering that I am not where I was before. Nujabes or some such genius is the DJ playing their music."
"Really? Just a club? You've gotta think bigger, M." She says.
"Well, All my scars would be gone and all my parts would be back where they should be, like old friends back in town after a long trip to someplace unseen. I wouldn't feel pain in my arms when I go to hug my friends. All my most important friends lost would be there, and we'd be relaxing and having a good time like we used to. Maybe I could say things I've always wanted to say to them."
She looks at me, with a surprised face. "This suddenly got deep as shit, man."
I answer with something less likely to be creepy sounding. "Well, that's what I'm hoping for in the l
UntitledShe tipped her head back to the morning sun, the feeling of dappled light on her skin and the sound of the trickling water beneath her feet soothing her. Occasionally the water jumped up to taste her bare toes, licking away the salt and sweat and dirt that accumulated in the creases and cracks of her skin while she was away from it. Then the water whisked everything that was ugly downstream, leaving only crystalline beauty behind it. Its peace was pervasive, the quiet burble of splashing water blending into the murmur of life all around it; the whirr of cicadas in the trees and grasshoppers in the ferns, the buzzing wings of a dragonfly come to dance over the surface and the soft chirping arguments of birds resting high in the treetops.
Perhaps she was a little too happy here surrounded by nature as she was. She had sought her river for solace, a private cocoon where she could rest alone and do what she did best. Instead of being filled with the lust for prose, she found herself compla
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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