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Growing Old TogetherLove, she told me sadly, in whispers in the dark, Was a thing of tragic romance, that touched more than just the heart, It bent the truth of wisdom, it leant day to violent night, It wept for loss and passion, and was worthless with no fight.Growing Old Together
It came in halting heartbeats, to bring a stormy dance, It sang of crumbling headstones, and of eternal romance. Of starlight in the shadows, of dusky night in day, It told the heart of hope, and bade it yet to stay.
Greying hair and lashes, spangled turquoise eyes, A soul of many secrets, of tragic ruby skies, And she whispered st
by ~Mirabella-Sabriel
SailingIn slow and stirring circles, sailing lilac dreams, Eloquent in grace, paving shivered seams, Soft as thistle down, under starry skies, Enchanting birds to soar, hope that never dies.Sailing
by ~Mirabella-Sabriel
AutumnEnchanted songs of sunlight begged to be set free, But Autumn waited softly. It was not yet time to see. Not yet time to lift her heart’s true children to the winds. Not yet time to linger, linger and rescind.Autumn
by ~Mirabella-Sabriel
The Prince's LadyThe night held the darkness of death, cold without lull of the light, For the smoky clouds of silver, hid their glow from the turbulent night. And under these violent skies, the Prince’s men did toil, These men of his were fighting– Fighting–, ever fighting– These soldiers loved were fighting, lest dark should their heart foil.The Prince's Lady
And so they looked away to the east with a hope to see the day, And shading their eyes from the darkness, they watchfully held their sway, For their Prince fought for the light, and barred all dark from his heart, Fighting the torren
by ~Mirabella-Sabriel
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Dark Phoenixby *puimun
Whispers in the windI walk in sorrow among the dead, where brittle leaves lie above the silent bones. Tilted headstones lean wearily, bearing the names of those they guard. And yet the silence is not complete, for I feel a sighing wind that carries hushed whispers, of those half-forgotten dead.Whispers in the wind
Many here will not rest in peace. for a mournful chorus vibrates a dankness that hovers here, grey-shrouded and persistent, above the sharp crackle of winter frost. A soft wailing seeps through reluctant soil as muffled words distil from immoveable lips.
They ask, 'Was our ti
by *lordbeazy
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: In my imagination
- Interests: Movies, reading, writing, nature walks, photgraphy, history
- Favourite band or musician: Poets of the Fall, Josh Groban, Nickleback, Imogen Heap, Regina Spektor
- Favourite poet or writer: Anne Bishop, Alfred Noyes, Sara Teasdale, Bryce Courtney
- Favourite style of art: Fantasy, realism
- Tools of the Trade: Pen and Paper, or Quill and Parchment
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The most successful serial killer of all time, is time itself.
Just thought I’d depress you.
Thanks for the fav on my poem too.
--
Like a moth to a burning flame, I swept the paths of frost,
Hoping still to find, a freedom I had lost.
No light did I yet find, as I traversed those lonely seams,
Merely spirits of the past, who sang to me in dreams.
--
The most successful serial killer of all time, is time itself.
Just thought I’d depress you.
--
Mythos Imperfect.*
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Like a moth to a burning flame, I swept the paths of frost,
Hoping still to find, a freedom I had lost.
No light did I yet find, as I traversed those lonely seams,
Merely spirits of the past, who sang to me in dreams.
--
The most successful serial killer of all time, is time itself.
Just thought I’d depress you.
--
The most successful serial killer of all time, is time itself.
Just thought I’d depress you.
Your writings are most excellent!
--
Like a moth to a burning flame, I swept the paths of frost,
Hoping still to find, a freedom I had lost.
No light did I yet find, as I traversed those lonely seams,
Merely spirits of the past, who sang to me in dreams.
--
The most successful serial killer of all time, is time itself.
Just thought I’d depress you.
--
The most successful serial killer of all time, is time itself.
Just thought I’d depress you.
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