The bow that Eros holds so dear
A bow you wield without hate nor fear
How beautifully it graces, a blinding star
One would be ensnared, near or far
And yet here my heart holds the key
For a secret twinkle you show to me
All reality melts into a dream
Oh, my soul you do redeem!
An angel's wings, so pure and white
Unfolds so slowly in pure delight
My only wish is that it be me,
The bow that graces your face eternally
My fingers itch to write
a feeling i refuse to fight
it seeps in like the darkness of the night
a wonderus feeling that is so right
i make the pen my sword
the enmy's blood is my word
this page is my world
and the ink is my soil
there is no need to seed
i will always just reap
the same as i weep
as with my tears
act like a waterfall to wash away my fears
and as i wash myself clean
my scars wont be seen
for as i write i feel your touch
that alone is more then enough
to feel free
with just being me
i said i would never again fly
about that i didn't lie
so instead i'll sit with you near
and i'll whisper in your ear
the tru
Press Start Prologue by the-little-dreamer, literature
Literature
Press Start Prologue
All I can remember is falling.
Down, down, tumbling down through the vast blackness. Flashing blue ones and zeros swirled around me, barely registering in my brain before they were whisked away. "Binary," I thought. What the hell was it doing there? Shouldn't I be in my room, waiting for my dad to pick me up on his day of the month? What's happeneing? Why -
My thoughts mushed together and suddenly I couldn't think anymore. Nothing was important, nothing mattered except getting out of this damn mess. Where the hell am I?
Everything stopped and changed in a flash of blue. Sky blue, like the colour of robins eggs. I was rushing past clouds an
He ran with scissors,
chalked the room
bright blue for spite -
all to make a name.
With haste he stepped
on sidewalk cracks
and slept with lions,
snug and tight
as winter evenings
lost in dream-wood.
He pulled rabbits out of hats
and talked the thin air
around him
into changing colors -
the snake tail of evening
churning on the lake.
And dragons bowed down low
and claimed his heart
a luscious toy
and made promises
to the reed backed wind
that he would live forever.