| Sometimes ignorance isn't bliss |


RealityI don't want to be your fantasy Some illusive figure Whose very embodimentReality
Requires a lacking Of substance An empty façade Covering truth with Inestimable intimations As though Elusive concepts Of natural ideology And true sensuality Can move shadows toward Actualizations of anything Past our current state Of separation Beyond my self-loathsome
Fist-shaking diatribe Here I remain Far away Hidden from your inevitable Radius of effect Damning my invariable proclivities Will-o-wisp desires driving  


Unending questionI wanted to ask you what this was Anymore Where went passionate regard The sun-lit field present always in your gaze Do we meet in understanding Still Are you becoming a passing moment in my story Memories of happy times Should I cling to you and fight the unending fight Of one true love Will I end; lost Regrettably crying into my final shroud One foolish mistake Given up To out-weigh them allUnending question


Beachwalker's BirdsongFellow singer of the versed tune Winter draw you here From cold winds grasp to sandy shores Winter hold you hereBeachwalker's Birdsong
Lost triller of a happy life Memories take me home Winters on the north once more Spring will take you home
Ancient keeper of the willow song Flying north again Gone from all the truths you heard Flying home again


Autumn LeavesLittle boy skidded on leftovers from the storms of leaves and overripe thoughts in the same way the lemon drop melted onto his tongue leaving nothing but a bitter aftertaste.Autumn Leaves
Stagnating warm waters of the nearby loch that became his garden pond where he used to see proud fully clothed trees nearby shielding the green bank.
The autumn leaves are now singing down on a thousand hurrying little sheltered
schoolchildren holding their mummy's hand
whilst sucking contentedly on a lollypop.
He feels no liberation or reprieve from gathering
a pile of


Imagine Tiny HammersImagine tiny hammers suspended in stasis until the tension is severed. Pummeling tiny strings for the sake of beauty. Imagine tiny hammers in a way you imagine nothing else - sacred and unknowable.Imagine Tiny Hammers
Now imagine tiny writers locked inside a black suitcase writing thirteen letter novels. Screaming out for release. Composing drafts of ghosts that will never be.
Imagine miles (and miles) of beauty, shredded in sunlight. & imagine Alaskan fauna, clumsy beasts that ignore tiny writers. Hear the long-forgotten sonata i


Of Broken MirrorsI'll write a story out of you one day.Of Broken Mirrors
And it won't be one of those gushy love stories you know the ones. The ones I used to write for you all the time. The ones about your eyes, your freckles, the way you held me when I was alone.
This one's going to be about your escape.
I was never quite sure what you were escaping from. It could have been me. It could have been your abusive mom, your alcoholic good-for-nothing dad, it could have been that bratty little kid down the street. But I don't think it was any of those things, not really.
I think you were escaping from your cat.
&
thanks far da favar~
nice hat by te way
Cheers
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"He who makes a beast of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man. "
Samuel Johnson
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I am 51% a really nice person, 49% bitch....don't push your luck!
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"Trust thyself; every heart vibrates to that iron string" ~Emerson
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"Trust thyself; every heart vibrates to that iron string" ~Emerson
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"Trust thyself; every heart vibrates to that iron string" ~Emerson
If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it if you looked at my news article.
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~§å®ßø¥~
"You've got to stand for something
or you'll fall for anything."
Visit my dA portfolio and my profile, =StarBoyDeath, that's me.
#theWrittenRevolution where the words are the spark.
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