੭୧... Soft lyrics billow from the next room, wrapping their syllables around her body. Drenching her skin in warm, buttery tunes. Floating behind the words on the page; as she watch the stories unfurl from her book.
My eyes stop seeing and my fingers no longer turn the pages, I am part of the tale. Engulfed by the stark poetry of being alive. A passive, invisible witness to the lives of the characters, as they run across my mind and live onwards in my imagination. ☾
Sometimes I forget that I’m reading; I can see everything as clearly as the island. From my beach on a still July morning.
My eyes stop seeing and my fingers no longer turn the pages, I am part of the tale. Engulfed by the stark poetry of being alive. A passive, invisible witness to the lives of the characters, as they run across my mind and live onwards in my imagination. ☾
There the moon gliding its light to guide her slipping away — and the shadows in the tree stalked her soulless grumbling footsteps.
Cricket's music calmed her heart. The immense outcry of the branches woke the parallel of the Dead Tree amid the black forest. Even the wilderness turned cold when she steps afoot. Her sight gone and her heart is pretentious to the music of the lonely shadows. “Come here, dear, for you must set yourself free.”
It was from the parallel — the ones whom the living bodies buried and forgotten. The sandcastle was falling away. The shadows almost struck her red knitted dress and begging her to come. But she was finding her way — a princess lost in the deep. To fall away, to be shot by a bullet straight into her heart. To be gone, and to sing her last breath.
Cricket's music calmed her heart. The immense outcry of the branches woke the parallel of the Dead Tree amid the black forest. Even the wilderness turned cold when she steps afoot. Her sight gone and her heart is pretentious to the music of the lonely shadows. “Come here, dear, for you must set yourself free.”
It was from the parallel — the ones whom the living bodies buried and forgotten. The sandcastle was falling away. The shadows almost struck her red knitted dress and begging her to come. But she was finding her way — a princess lost in the deep. To fall away, to be shot by a bullet straight into her heart. To be gone, and to sing her last breath.
Beneath the blossoms of Sakura's grace, where petals dance in a delicate embrace, I found myself under nature's sweet spree; a moment that sparked a love so free.
Amidst the cherry blossoms, pink and white; our hearts entwined in the soft twilight. Whispers of love, like a gentle breeze, caressed our souls under blooming trees.
Full of rusty and dusty memories; with the mesmerizing eyes that seen some terrible events—Her beauty reflects the aphrodite epoch. Her wisdom is such sterling that Vanquish the wisdom of Socrates; but the fate and destiny leads her.
She feels like a lost-lady who lives in a stranger place. But for her comfort in this world, at least, she has her books and her strawberry-pattern mug.
She feels like a lost-lady who lives in a stranger place. But for her comfort in this world, at least, she has her books and her strawberry-pattern mug.
Channel name was changed to «Can a pathetic girl like me find someone who will love me for the rest of my life?»
At the tips of my fingers and in the palms of my hands on the backs of my eyelids; where sleep should be between fanciful flower petals, dead since long ago.
Upon the fabric of my dress where your hand met my waist; Within books and doors slammed shut, a restless cacophony; from falling rain, polluted by quixotic aspirationunder the breath swept from my mouth; in a prayer that i am not in love with you.
Channel name was changed to «Collapse my veins, wearing beautiful shoes; it's not living if it's not with you.»