Ghosts
They exist in the turned pages of a novel,
Buried beneath words that wrap themselves around your heart.
They peer out of photographs you've taken,
Snippets of the souls you’ve captured -
Smiling faces of friends you don’t see smiling anymore.
They live behind the eyes of soldiers, who watch brothers torn limb from limb
By guilt.
They flutter in the stomachs of wives waiting for their hero to come home,
Ghosts swimming in every tear drop, dissolving like snowflakes in the sun -
Settling at the base of your heart like a bullet from a gun.
In every whisper of the wind, you can hear them wailing,
Ever so faint, with such painfu
Imagine if the oceans and the skies were not blue, but light pink.
Imagine if the colour of blood was not red, but purple instead,
And the sun shone through a blue haze, over a world that had never known it’s yellow kiss.
I would wake up just to see the black moon, surrounded by stars of emerald green,
Then to myself I would think,
‘Imagine what a world this world would be, if the moon glowed white throughout the night,
And not as black as the heart of a man.’
I don’t have a crush.
I’m not in love.
I don’t get butterflies when thinking about
A Certain Someone -
Unless you count 44 year old men
On my TV screen.
I don’t text anyone special
At the dead of night,
And I’m content to sleep
By myself, on my own, Hans Solo.
No one has caught my eye
And I don’t randomly smile to myself,
As people in love tend to do...
No dependencies or attachments,
No troubles and no Aches,
No handing over my heart
Just to watch as it breaks.
I’ll keep it here in this case,
Fixed with reinforced glass.
Alone but protected,
And above all -
Safe.
When that song no longer reminds you of him
And that place where you kissed is just another park bench,
One of many.
When you can smile without wishing you weren't alive
And can feel the suns warmth even in the rain,
That’s when you know the threads holding your heart together
Are no longer needed.
When your first thought in the morning isn’t of him
And you can leave the house without persuasion,
When the grass looks greener beneath your feet
Instead of over your neighbour’s fence
When your heart only aches on Sundays,
That’s when you’ll realise Time really was your friend
As well as your Healer.
It feels like there are dragons in her stomach
Dragons with teeth that tear
And smear blood across their wings.
Dragons made of black and hate
Blocking out truth from the Father
Filling her innards with fear and fear and
Fear.
She wishes she could rip herself open
And let these beasts fly free,
Far away from the cry of her doubting heart
And from the cry of her old soul.
Tomorrow, let there be Light -
But tonight the darkness rules.
These walls are stained in bitter bloods,
In moans and groans of sorrowed floods,
A tomb where all the dead still live,
Their long last breath still left to give.
Old mens bones do creak and sigh,
And wave their fists at passers by
Whose youth has yet to flourish still,
Beneath this sky of weakened Will.
The ocean deep enthrones Her
Majestic, Alone.
Eternal slumber
Beneath the surface glass
And waves that moan.
Mans fault ensnared Her,
Too bright, so dark,
And now she's lost forever
Accompanied by the dead that rot,
Their skin as taught as leather.
The loneliness of man by Eyes-That-See, literature
Literature
The loneliness of man
If I should live in solitude,
No one's eyes to meet my own, nor mouth
To bid me well or sick, kissing Sorrow from
My lips. When the sands of Time had run
Their course, and my Maker's hands did
Turn the glass a voice should cry
'I thank Thee for my loneliness, that
I have no one to tell goodbye. My
Gratitude in debt to You, for placing
Near me no source of pain,
Or pleasure. Friends would have only
Hurt me so; a love to wound my precious heart.
Love would have torn me apart No! -
I thank God I was lonely!'
And when that voice had born its death,
Heavens eyes would turn to me - its
Ears perked to hear m
Ghosts
They exist in the turned pages of a novel,
Buried beneath words that wrap themselves around your heart.
They peer out of photographs you've taken,
Snippets of the souls you’ve captured -
Smiling faces of friends you don’t see smiling anymore.
They live behind the eyes of soldiers, who watch brothers torn limb from limb
By guilt.
They flutter in the stomachs of wives waiting for their hero to come home,
Ghosts swimming in every tear drop, dissolving like snowflakes in the sun -
Settling at the base of your heart like a bullet from a gun.
In every whisper of the wind, you can hear them wailing,
Ever so faint, with such painfu
Imagine if the oceans and the skies were not blue, but light pink.
Imagine if the colour of blood was not red, but purple instead,
And the sun shone through a blue haze, over a world that had never known it’s yellow kiss.
I would wake up just to see the black moon, surrounded by stars of emerald green,
Then to myself I would think,
‘Imagine what a world this world would be, if the moon glowed white throughout the night,
And not as black as the heart of a man.’
I don’t have a crush.
I’m not in love.
I don’t get butterflies when thinking about
A Certain Someone -
Unless you count 44 year old men
On my TV screen.
I don’t text anyone special
At the dead of night,
And I’m content to sleep
By myself, on my own, Hans Solo.
No one has caught my eye
And I don’t randomly smile to myself,
As people in love tend to do...
No dependencies or attachments,
No troubles and no Aches,
No handing over my heart
Just to watch as it breaks.
I’ll keep it here in this case,
Fixed with reinforced glass.
Alone but protected,
And above all -
Safe.
When that song no longer reminds you of him
And that place where you kissed is just another park bench,
One of many.
When you can smile without wishing you weren't alive
And can feel the suns warmth even in the rain,
That’s when you know the threads holding your heart together
Are no longer needed.
When your first thought in the morning isn’t of him
And you can leave the house without persuasion,
When the grass looks greener beneath your feet
Instead of over your neighbour’s fence
When your heart only aches on Sundays,
That’s when you’ll realise Time really was your friend
As well as your Healer.
It feels like there are dragons in her stomach
Dragons with teeth that tear
And smear blood across their wings.
Dragons made of black and hate
Blocking out truth from the Father
Filling her innards with fear and fear and
Fear.
She wishes she could rip herself open
And let these beasts fly free,
Far away from the cry of her doubting heart
And from the cry of her old soul.
Tomorrow, let there be Light -
But tonight the darkness rules.
These walls are stained in bitter bloods,
In moans and groans of sorrowed floods,
A tomb where all the dead still live,
Their long last breath still left to give.
Old mens bones do creak and sigh,
And wave their fists at passers by
Whose youth has yet to flourish still,
Beneath this sky of weakened Will.
The ocean deep enthrones Her
Majestic, Alone.
Eternal slumber
Beneath the surface glass
And waves that moan.
Mans fault ensnared Her,
Too bright, so dark,
And now she's lost forever
Accompanied by the dead that rot,
Their skin as taught as leather.
The loneliness of man by Eyes-That-See, literature
Literature
The loneliness of man
If I should live in solitude,
No one's eyes to meet my own, nor mouth
To bid me well or sick, kissing Sorrow from
My lips. When the sands of Time had run
Their course, and my Maker's hands did
Turn the glass a voice should cry
'I thank Thee for my loneliness, that
I have no one to tell goodbye. My
Gratitude in debt to You, for placing
Near me no source of pain,
Or pleasure. Friends would have only
Hurt me so; a love to wound my precious heart.
Love would have torn me apart No! -
I thank God I was lonely!'
And when that voice had born its death,
Heavens eyes would turn to me - its
Ears perked to hear m
Current Residence: London Favourite genre of music: If I like it then I like it, who cares about genre Favourite style of art: Photography MP3 player of choice: Ipod Favourite cartoon character: Penguins of Madagascar <3 Personal Quote: If everyday is a new day, just look how quickly things grow old.
Favourite TV Shows
Hawaii 5-O, Sherlock <3
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Ben Howard
Favourite Books
The Goose Girl
Favourite Writers
Tom Holt
Favourite Games
Sims 3
Tools of the Trade
My Lumix Legend called 'Duck', and my lovely wireless keyboard :)
Here are a bunch of quotes that I googled for when I was bored. :D
I hope they inspire, or at least make you smile.
Writing books is the closest men ever come to childbearing.
Norman Mailer (1923-?) American writer.
How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.
Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) American naturalist, poet and philosopher
Any writer, I suppose, feels that the world into which he was born is nothing less than a conspiracy against the cultivation of his talent.
James Baldwin (1924-1987) African-American writer.
"What distinguishes modern art from the art of other ages is criticism."
Octavio
SOTUH AFRICA WAS AAMAAAZIIINNGGG!!!
I'm so honoured to be able to say that I went there and I gave all that i could give. I played with orphans and other kids as well as help build their preschool and cementing, paintiing and working in the feeding programme!!
Such a life changing experiance to see that they have nothing but they don't complain, they live in the now and don't worry about tomorrow. They have such faith in God and such a fullness of joy, something that we don't have in the more economically developed countries.
I love them all and miss them sooo much!!!
I didn't get as much scenic pics as i wanted to, but I did get some of
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