Drool -revision- 2 by Cameljacks on DeviantArt

Promoted Deviations

A long lost dream

All the paths and roads were open Every door and gate unlocked No worries in sight for a hundred miles As he rallied out of bed And frolicked with the bees and butterflies So long ago So long ago A dream, a long lost dream Every face was smiling at him No hard word of cold disdain Reached his gentle heart or broke spirit As he chased the rainbows nest From the sun rose up to night crept in So long ago So long ago A dream, a long lost dream What has the world now done to you Every eye is turned away No helping hand is reaching for you The world has turned its back And only sees your misery and pain So long ago So long ago A dream, a long lost dream.

Literature

The Past Is Never Gone

The Past Is Never Gone by p.b. wells there are nights when the wind laughs. not out loud. worse than that. it laughs inside the walls, inside the glass, inside the little wet meat of my skull. and I sit there, one worn-out man with a drink in his hand, grinning back at it like some poor bastard who has finally been told the pistol on the table has a bullet with his name on it. good. about time. not weather. not thunder. not some holy choir warming up behind the clouds. no. this is better. this is the old rot finally splitting open. this is the lie standing naked under the cheap yellow bulb. this is the moment I have carried in my mouth for years like a razor blade I was too proud to swallow. I remember the room. I remember your hands. I remember the truth trying to crawl out while you smiled over it. I was the ultimate witness. you wore that practiced little smile while the truth bled out behind you. you thought nobody

Literature

Lose Control

The hinges of the ego groan—a rusted, weeping gate— Against the heavy, rhythmic haul of vitriol and hate. It is a salt-thick surge, a black and briney swell, The tolling of a cracked and subterranean bell. I am the architect of dikes that crumble into sand, Cupping the furnace-breath with a scorched and open hand. To hate is to swallow embers and pray the world will burn, But the throat is char, the marrow dry, at every jagged turn. The ghost of a fist. The echo of a scream. The jagged glass geometry of a fractured, frantic dream. Philosophy is a flimsy shroud against this primal ache, How many logic-fences must a single spirit break? Is the "Self" a steady captain, or a stowaway in chains, While the red-hot iron of resentment courses through the veins? I reach for the void—for the stillness of the stone— But the blood-beat is a thunder that I cannot claim alone. The rhythm is a stutter. A heartbeat skipped in fear. As the boundaries of the "I" begin to fray and disappear. So

Suggested Deviants

Malintra-Shadowmoon

Literature

Dust on this Earth

For the whiff of the moment, With closed eyes, timeless: Everything we ever dreamed, Everything we ever missed, Slowly passes by and becomes free. The moment, it is over ...Everything we are, Is only dust on this earth, Like fine grains in the wind.They are the same old songs, People keep playing and singing, Like a lonely drop on its path of life, Which disappears in a huge ocean. Everything we ever do, fades and goes by, Like a withered leaf that is blown away from the wind.Everything we are, Is only dust on this earth, Like fine grains in the wind.Nothing is forever, Just heaven and earth survive the time. Time does not stand still, it ...

Literature

Coming and Going

The sun sets, the sun rises - and I am in the middle of it all, involved in the cycle of balance and harmony. Perceiving all the gifts, that are simply there, makes me shine with gratitude. The leaves sway in the evening wind. Don't they sing the song of peace? I hear the thrush singing - A breath of peace lets me live love. Everything in life is a coming and going: Birth and death, Spring and fall, Day and night. Where do I come from? Why am I here? Where am I going? Just come, enjoy, let flow, don't hold on, let go..... Nothing stays as it is, and yet nothing is lost. I consciously perceive what I experience, it stays in my memory. Everything I do or don't do changes the course of things. Cherish beautiful moments, but don't hold on to them forever. How can I enjoy them, if I don't know the opposite? What would day be without night? What would light be without darkness or shadows? No things are finite - but are connected in a perpetual cycle, fleeing or following each

Literature

Your Angel

When the morning sun shines After the dawn has vanished, Nature and mood will combine. The world shows itself in a new garment.When it is foggy and rainy, Good humor should not pass away. The day is blessed anyhow. This we have to understand at first.When the night is very dark, Uneasiness often fills your heart When you miss the angel then, Who takes away your grief, sorrow and pain.When you long for him quietly, And you know no other way out. When you are nearly in dire straits, A light promises relief.When you cannot see the angel, And you cannot feel his nearness, Your hope should not falter. He will stay loyal all your life.

Bukoslav

Literature

A look inside me

In the depths of my soul, where shadows dance, Lies a labyrinth of dreams and circumstance. A tapestry woven with threads of strife, A symphony played on the strings of life. Come, take a journey through the corridors deep, Where secrets are kept, and memories sleep. With each step you take, a story unfolds, A saga of victories, a tale of souls. In the chamber of joy, laughter rings clear, Echoes of moments cherished, held dear. But beyond lies a chamber cloaked in gloom, Where shadows linger, casting their doom. A glance within reveals fears untold, The scars of battles fought, stories bold. Yet amidst the darkness, a flicker of light, Guiding the way through the darkest of night. In the hallways of hope, dreams take flight, Igniting the spark, setting the soul alight. A beacon of courage, a beacon of grace, Leading the way to a brighter embrace. So take a look inside, dare to explore, The depths of your being, the core of your lore. For within lies the essence

Literature

I still believe in the stars above my head

I believe in the stars above my head,Whispers of light in a sea of the dead.Ancient and bold, they shimmer with grace,Guiding the lost through the vast, endless space. Each one a secret, a promise, a dream,Flickering truths in a cosmic stream.They sing to the earth in a silent refrain,Binding the heavens to dust and to rain. I believe in their glow, their quiet embrace,A dance in the dark, a glimpse of God's face.For in their sparkle, I find my own way,A journey of night unfolding to day. Though clouds may gather, though shadows may fall,I believe in the stars, I hear their call.Their light is eternal, their magic is true,And in their reflection, I find something new. So I stand beneath them, my heart full of fire,A soul intertwined with their endless desire.I believe in the stars, in the stories they weave,In their timeless beauty, I dare to believe.

Literature

Paint your own heaven

In the canvas of existence, where dreams take flight, Where stars dance in the velvet of the night, There lies a realm untouched by mortal hands, Where souls craft their worlds in infinite strands. Paint your own heaven, with brushes of light, Each stroke a whisper, each color so bright. Let your imagination soar and unfurl, In the tapestry of galaxies, let it swirl. Dip your brush in the hues of your heart, Where love and kindness form the very start. Let compassion be your guiding star, As you sketch the landscapes, near and far. In this celestial atelier, there's no end in sight, No boundaries to confine your soul's flight. Mountains of hope, rivers of grace, In your painted paradise, find your place. With every stroke, let laughter ring, And through the valleys, let echoes sing. For in this masterpiece that you create, Find solace, find joy, find your own fate. So paint your own heaven with strokes divine, Let each moment on the canvas shine. For in the

RevankistProductions

Literature

Everything Ends

Everything ends. No matter your successes. No matter your failures. Everything ends. All the love you've ever had. It ends. All the pain you've ever endured. It ends. All the memories you hold dear. They end. It is not a mistake. It is not a tragedy. It is wisdom. Therefore, Be with your loved ones, Bury your grievances, And never, ever Be anyone but yourself. Because no matter what you do, No matter what you say, Time ticks. And everything that is Shall one day Be no more. Everything ends. Everything ends. Don't just make your Peace with it. Make your life with it. Do always what you must. Say always how you feel. And live always your way.

Literature

Grief

It’s knowing that you are all that remains. A desolate mindfulness, A derelict knowingness, A despondent persistence. It’s lying in the agony of the night and thinking: “I had everything.” Torment only you can understand. Languages you can’t speak with anyone else. Colors you can’t see with anyone else. It is the anguish of sublimation, the awareness That you must live in everything you’ve lost And what you’ve lost is everything. That is what it is to live in grief. It is the crater from your joy’s demise.

Literature

Life, the Riddle

After you live and before you die You must go and create your why. Why does the sun set red? Why does the moon glow white? And why does the ocean carry The echoes of forgotten dreams? Write your story before your book is shut You must go and define your what. What is the direction of wind? What is the heart of snow? And what is the fire whence All life came and all life must go? Be diligent and take the utmost of care You must go and discover your where. Where is curiosity's last stop? Where is love's last harbor? And where is the last time You see your loved ones? Figure out your spark and then You must go and determine your when. When does the world end? When did it begin? And when did you realize The world was a person? Arrange your affairs, no matter how few You must go and embrace your who. Who counted the stars of the night? Who named every grain of sand? And who lives in the mirror When no one is looking? It is not too late, do it now You must go and choose your how. How

Suggested Collections

Erotics

Renoux on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/renoux/art/Un-matin-d-avril-126457684Renoux

zemotion on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/zemotion/art/Opulence-71420915zemotion

Furrrka on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/furrrka/art/Seasong-116195341Furrrka

Foto

FleurDelacour on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/fleurdelacour/art/Surreal-290767359FleurDelacour

strangeris on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/strangeris/art/Shoulder-crow-396698224strangeris

Arianna-chan on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/arianna-chan/art/SelfFish-254644184Arianna-chan

Photo Art

darkmatterzone on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/darkmatterzone/art/Amanda-Wells-3-628265012darkmatterzone

armene on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/armene/art/Diptych-190250579armene

lithiumpicnic on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/lithiumpicnic/art/Natural-History-24867853lithiumpicnic

Promoted Deviations

Literature

A long lost dream

All the paths and roads were open Every door and gate unlocked No worries in sight for a hundred miles As he rallied out of bed And frolicked with the bees and butterflies So long ago So long ago A dream, a long lost dream Every face was smiling at him No hard word of cold disdain Reached his gentle heart or broke spirit As he chased the rainbows nest From the sun rose up to night crept in So long ago So long ago A dream, a long lost dream What has the world now done to you Every eye is turned away No helping hand is reaching for you The world has turned its back And only sees your misery and pain So long ago So long ago A dream, a long lost dream.

Literature

The Past Is Never Gone

The Past Is Never Gone by p.b. wells there are nights when the wind laughs. not out loud. worse than that. it laughs inside the walls, inside the glass, inside the little wet meat of my skull. and I sit there, one worn-out man with a drink in his hand, grinning back at it like some poor bastard who has finally been told the pistol on the table has a bullet with his name on it. good. about time. not weather. not thunder. not some holy choir warming up behind the clouds. no. this is better. this is the old rot finally splitting open. this is the lie standing naked under the cheap yellow bulb. this is the moment I have carried in my mouth for years like a razor blade I was too proud to swallow. I remember the room. I remember your hands. I remember the truth trying to crawl out while you smiled over it. I was the ultimate witness. you wore that practiced little smile while the truth bled out behind you. you thought nobody

Literature

Lose Control

The hinges of the ego groan—a rusted, weeping gate— Against the heavy, rhythmic haul of vitriol and hate. It is a salt-thick surge, a black and briney swell, The tolling of a cracked and subterranean bell. I am the architect of dikes that crumble into sand, Cupping the furnace-breath with a scorched and open hand. To hate is to swallow embers and pray the world will burn, But the throat is char, the marrow dry, at every jagged turn. The ghost of a fist. The echo of a scream. The jagged glass geometry of a fractured, frantic dream. Philosophy is a flimsy shroud against this primal ache, How many logic-fences must a single spirit break? Is the "Self" a steady captain, or a stowaway in chains, While the red-hot iron of resentment courses through the veins? I reach for the void—for the stillness of the stone— But the blood-beat is a thunder that I cannot claim alone. The rhythm is a stutter. A heartbeat skipped in fear. As the boundaries of the "I" begin to fray and disappear. So

Suggested Deviants

Malintra-Shadowmoon

Literature

Dust on this Earth

For the whiff of the moment, With closed eyes, timeless: Everything we ever dreamed, Everything we ever missed, Slowly passes by and becomes free. The moment, it is over ...Everything we are, Is only dust on this earth, Like fine grains in the wind.They are the same old songs, People keep playing and singing, Like a lonely drop on its path of life, Which disappears in a huge ocean. Everything we ever do, fades and goes by, Like a withered leaf that is blown away from the wind.Everything we are, Is only dust on this earth, Like fine grains in the wind.Nothing is forever, Just heaven and earth survive the time. Time does not stand still, it ...

Literature

Coming and Going

The sun sets, the sun rises - and I am in the middle of it all, involved in the cycle of balance and harmony. Perceiving all the gifts, that are simply there, makes me shine with gratitude. The leaves sway in the evening wind. Don't they sing the song of peace? I hear the thrush singing - A breath of peace lets me live love. Everything in life is a coming and going: Birth and death, Spring and fall, Day and night. Where do I come from? Why am I here? Where am I going? Just come, enjoy, let flow, don't hold on, let go..... Nothing stays as it is, and yet nothing is lost. I consciously perceive what I experience, it stays in my memory. Everything I do or don't do changes the course of things. Cherish beautiful moments, but don't hold on to them forever. How can I enjoy them, if I don't know the opposite? What would day be without night? What would light be without darkness or shadows? No things are finite - but are connected in a perpetual cycle, fleeing or following each

Literature

Your Angel

When the morning sun shines After the dawn has vanished, Nature and mood will combine. The world shows itself in a new garment.When it is foggy and rainy, Good humor should not pass away. The day is blessed anyhow. This we have to understand at first.When the night is very dark, Uneasiness often fills your heart When you miss the angel then, Who takes away your grief, sorrow and pain.When you long for him quietly, And you know no other way out. When you are nearly in dire straits, A light promises relief.When you cannot see the angel, And you cannot feel his nearness, Your hope should not falter. He will stay loyal all your life.

Bukoslav

Literature

A look inside me

In the depths of my soul, where shadows dance, Lies a labyrinth of dreams and circumstance. A tapestry woven with threads of strife, A symphony played on the strings of life. Come, take a journey through the corridors deep, Where secrets are kept, and memories sleep. With each step you take, a story unfolds, A saga of victories, a tale of souls. In the chamber of joy, laughter rings clear, Echoes of moments cherished, held dear. But beyond lies a chamber cloaked in gloom, Where shadows linger, casting their doom. A glance within reveals fears untold, The scars of battles fought, stories bold. Yet amidst the darkness, a flicker of light, Guiding the way through the darkest of night. In the hallways of hope, dreams take flight, Igniting the spark, setting the soul alight. A beacon of courage, a beacon of grace, Leading the way to a brighter embrace. So take a look inside, dare to explore, The depths of your being, the core of your lore. For within lies the essence

Literature

I still believe in the stars above my head

I believe in the stars above my head,Whispers of light in a sea of the dead.Ancient and bold, they shimmer with grace,Guiding the lost through the vast, endless space. Each one a secret, a promise, a dream,Flickering truths in a cosmic stream.They sing to the earth in a silent refrain,Binding the heavens to dust and to rain. I believe in their glow, their quiet embrace,A dance in the dark, a glimpse of God's face.For in their sparkle, I find my own way,A journey of night unfolding to day. Though clouds may gather, though shadows may fall,I believe in the stars, I hear their call.Their light is eternal, their magic is true,And in their reflection, I find something new. So I stand beneath them, my heart full of fire,A soul intertwined with their endless desire.I believe in the stars, in the stories they weave,In their timeless beauty, I dare to believe.

Literature

Paint your own heaven

In the canvas of existence, where dreams take flight, Where stars dance in the velvet of the night, There lies a realm untouched by mortal hands, Where souls craft their worlds in infinite strands. Paint your own heaven, with brushes of light, Each stroke a whisper, each color so bright. Let your imagination soar and unfurl, In the tapestry of galaxies, let it swirl. Dip your brush in the hues of your heart, Where love and kindness form the very start. Let compassion be your guiding star, As you sketch the landscapes, near and far. In this celestial atelier, there's no end in sight, No boundaries to confine your soul's flight. Mountains of hope, rivers of grace, In your painted paradise, find your place. With every stroke, let laughter ring, And through the valleys, let echoes sing. For in this masterpiece that you create, Find solace, find joy, find your own fate. So paint your own heaven with strokes divine, Let each moment on the canvas shine. For in the

RevankistProductions

Literature

Everything Ends

Everything ends. No matter your successes. No matter your failures. Everything ends. All the love you've ever had. It ends. All the pain you've ever endured. It ends. All the memories you hold dear. They end. It is not a mistake. It is not a tragedy. It is wisdom. Therefore, Be with your loved ones, Bury your grievances, And never, ever Be anyone but yourself. Because no matter what you do, No matter what you say, Time ticks. And everything that is Shall one day Be no more. Everything ends. Everything ends. Don't just make your Peace with it. Make your life with it. Do always what you must. Say always how you feel. And live always your way.

Literature

Grief

It’s knowing that you are all that remains. A desolate mindfulness, A derelict knowingness, A despondent persistence. It’s lying in the agony of the night and thinking: “I had everything.” Torment only you can understand. Languages you can’t speak with anyone else. Colors you can’t see with anyone else. It is the anguish of sublimation, the awareness That you must live in everything you’ve lost And what you’ve lost is everything. That is what it is to live in grief. It is the crater from your joy’s demise.

Literature

Life, the Riddle

After you live and before you die You must go and create your why. Why does the sun set red? Why does the moon glow white? And why does the ocean carry The echoes of forgotten dreams? Write your story before your book is shut You must go and define your what. What is the direction of wind? What is the heart of snow? And what is the fire whence All life came and all life must go? Be diligent and take the utmost of care You must go and discover your where. Where is curiosity's last stop? Where is love's last harbor? And where is the last time You see your loved ones? Figure out your spark and then You must go and determine your when. When does the world end? When did it begin? And when did you realize The world was a person? Arrange your affairs, no matter how few You must go and embrace your who. Who counted the stars of the night? Who named every grain of sand? And who lives in the mirror When no one is looking? It is not too late, do it now You must go and choose your how. How

Suggested Collections

Erotics

Renoux on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/renoux/art/Un-matin-d-avril-126457684Renoux

zemotion on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/zemotion/art/Opulence-71420915zemotion

Furrrka on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/furrrka/art/Seasong-116195341Furrrka

Foto

FleurDelacour on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/fleurdelacour/art/Surreal-290767359FleurDelacour

strangeris on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/strangeris/art/Shoulder-crow-396698224strangeris

Arianna-chan on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/arianna-chan/art/SelfFish-254644184Arianna-chan

Photo Art

darkmatterzone on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/darkmatterzone/art/Amanda-Wells-3-628265012darkmatterzone

armene on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/armene/art/Diptych-190250579armene

lithiumpicnic on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/lithiumpicnic/art/Natural-History-24867853lithiumpicnic

Site Header

Deviation Actions

A long lost dream

The Past Is Never Gone

Lose Control

Dust on this Earth

Coming and Going

Your Angel

A look inside me

I still believe in the stars above my head

Paint your own heaven

Everything Ends

Grief

Life, the Riddle

A long lost dream

The Past Is Never Gone

Lose Control

Dust on this Earth

Coming and Going

Your Angel

A look inside me

I still believe in the stars above my head

Paint your own heaven

Everything Ends

Grief

Life, the Riddle

Drool -revision- 2

Description

A long lost dream

The Past Is Never Gone

Lose Control

Dust on this Earth

Coming and Going

Your Angel

A look inside me

I still believe in the stars above my head

Paint your own heaven

Everything Ends

Grief

Life, the Riddle