Styrofoam BreathA new sun rises,More Like This
A day has dawned.
The tables have turned
And the curtains are drawn.
Static faces in blank disguises,
Two suns can't set before another rises.
Gazing to the unknown horizon,
My whole world is torn.
Flowing from her eyes and and into mine,
Prospects are reborn.
The vision forever lingers:
Hair clasped in rigorous fingers.
The sky was murky,
Two drops of color lost in a glass.
Stirred once and left...
Left to sort things out with the amorphous deep.
Without fair warning,
And angels at night
Have never dreamt of morning.
Wrinkled, cracked plastic...
I'm back! Obviously!I thought I should update my journal, seeing as I'm not on holiday anymore. My brother has gone back to uni, so I can write again (obviously), and now I'm having major trouble with something of my own doing. I never thought asking for a music prompt would result in me having to do a proper Western-themed Evo story, but there you go. This is what I get when I bully people into giving me a topic It...will not be my finest writing ever. I'm wondering if I should re-vamp it and push it forward to 2030-ish, and do some sort of twist on it. I dunno. I've written it, but I'm not happy with what I wrote, so I'll see if I can come up with something better.More Like This
And the Evo love story + normal love story that a certain someone requested...I'll get there eventually! As soon as I actually think of something! Everything I come up with at the moment is related to characters I already have, and I want something completely new and stand-alone.
Annd that's about it.
No One Can Hear You ScreamSilence prevails,More Like This
an endless, comfortless silence,
which is worse than death,
because you remain conscious
of how utterly alone you are.
All dreams are nightmares
that come without sleep
when you never know if you
Time is without meaning,
and you begin to wonder
if you still have any existence,
even madness dare not tread here,
but instead something worse,
and yet unnamable, unknowable,
the utter loss of self.
Denied even the mercy
of waiting upon death,
when you cannot even be certain
of what life is any longer.
How easily the mind turns against you,
begins to consume itself,
and you can no longer trust your own thoughts,