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RosesMy fingers touch the pale tips
Of keys resounding true;
I played this music once before...
I played this song for you.
And as the notes come pouring out
Their feelings to display,
I see your eyes, a melody
Which tears can't wash away.
AdiosAdios, my loving city,
We shall never meet again;
Sparkling nights and emerald meadows,
Adios, my dear possessions,
Those which never left my side,
And the times we thought were endless,
Adios, my greatest friendships,
Times with you were never lost.
One embrace to last a lifetime,
Adios, one friend held dearest,
Time to tell the truth has come;
Know that I will always love you...
War 3 or Maybe NotLord, I wish we had lungs
In these smoke riddled streets
Lord, I wish we had hearts
Through this grim egotrip
Hand o'er bosom we pray
To the crushed hopes and dreams
Of our comrades; oh Lord
Bring us back from our sleep.
The SuicideDrippety-drop as the lifeblood draws thin,
The last of the crimson withdrawn from within.
The hand is left open, aware of its sin,
As beadlets roll down off its colourless skin.
The mouth is shaped loosely and curved in a smile,
The eyes distance sparks of despair and denial.
The chest is heaved forth, out of breath for a while...
A while eternal, sings metal's sweet guile.
The door is still closed and the body not found,
The slowing red drips reign alone in their sound.
The bath is the world that the sun goes around,
A desolate tombstone, a burial mound.
Drippety-drop as the last sighs are bled,
The onece-azure waters now ripple in red.
She's only asleep! So don't trouble her bed,
For nothing, alas, can awaken the dead.
UntitledLike Siamese Twins
Joined at the hips
Like Siamese Twins
Shared lungs and hearts
Like Siamese Twins
Twisted and sheared
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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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