Time Traveller by MargueriteBeausoleil on DeviantArt

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Marguerite Beausoleil Vintage Halloween Harlequin

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Promoted Deviations

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Literature

To Remember

We carry a lot on our shoulders lugging around the past as we go. There are lingering echos heard far off in the shroud of time that so hurt. Is it easy to romanticize days of gentle peace, yet would not do. Ghosts are not real to you or I, but the past is a truth that is rude. We are human in the end. Forget if you please, but I will remember. All is destined for finality to wilt away on vines once alive.

Literature

Lost At Last

If I'm to be lost then stamp out this soul, let the remnant be burned falling away into a cinder and flame. Let the last of my heart, pound a beat to giveaway falling in flight, then crush me with your palm to kill me where I stand. If I was lost, forget me here by the stony grey edge and think of me as nothing, but that dream akin to myth. If the last of your heart hurts with such a pain, to twist into knots of a memory sweet thing. Remember I am to be lost, faded from your time as an echo out in mountainous space. Maybe, at some long-distant point, far out from this last date is where your aching pain may float away. On ever days of light that shine out, down upon your heart you sing of joyous delight, having lost my name.

Literature

Echoed Memories

We are all echoes lost in the hidden valleys and green dells of long gone songs. There are daisy chains that float under our feet. Images invoke fractured memories, the arrow as it hits the mark. Soft sounds of waves roll against the sand. A nod and some lingering look that sparks a soul aflame again. Back to childhood, to days of school and games. The sport in those brave few minutes before a performance. Odd things spring up, moments once vague, now forgotten, like a kachina doll shown as the art it is. Where this life leads, I dare not sing, I dare not peek.

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 mean, I am

In the caverns of the mind's abyss, Where memories stir with a ghostly kiss, "I mean, I am," a mantra cried, In the silence where fears reside. Through the corridors of inner strife, Where battles rage to claim my life, "I mean, I am," a plea so raw, Yearning to break free from the claw. In the labyrinth of doubt and pain, Where doubts devour, leaving stains, "I mean, I am," a truth untold, In the heart's deepest, darkest fold. Through the chambers of desire's flame, Where passions burn with a fierce acclaim, "I mean, I am," a flame that yearns, For freedom from the soul's churns. In the recesses of the soul's retreat, Where shadows mingle with defeat, "I mean, I am," a whispered cry, Seeking solace 'neath the starry sky. In the crucible of self and fate, Where destinies weave and intertwine, "I mean, I am," a vow to be, Embracing all that makes me free. So let the echoes of "I mean, I am," Resound within, like a sacred psalm, For in that truth, I find my

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.

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Literature

To Remember

We carry a lot on our shoulders lugging around the past as we go. There are lingering echos heard far off in the shroud of time that so hurt. Is it easy to romanticize days of gentle peace, yet would not do. Ghosts are not real to you or I, but the past is a truth that is rude. We are human in the end. Forget if you please, but I will remember. All is destined for finality to wilt away on vines once alive.

Literature

Lost At Last

If I'm to be lost then stamp out this soul, let the remnant be burned falling away into a cinder and flame. Let the last of my heart, pound a beat to giveaway falling in flight, then crush me with your palm to kill me where I stand. If I was lost, forget me here by the stony grey edge and think of me as nothing, but that dream akin to myth. If the last of your heart hurts with such a pain, to twist into knots of a memory sweet thing. Remember I am to be lost, faded from your time as an echo out in mountainous space. Maybe, at some long-distant point, far out from this last date is where your aching pain may float away. On ever days of light that shine out, down upon your heart you sing of joyous delight, having lost my name.

Literature

Echoed Memories

We are all echoes lost in the hidden valleys and green dells of long gone songs. There are daisy chains that float under our feet. Images invoke fractured memories, the arrow as it hits the mark. Soft sounds of waves roll against the sand. A nod and some lingering look that sparks a soul aflame again. Back to childhood, to days of school and games. The sport in those brave few minutes before a performance. Odd things spring up, moments once vague, now forgotten, like a kachina doll shown as the art it is. Where this life leads, I dare not sing, I dare not peek.

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 mean, I am

In the caverns of the mind's abyss, Where memories stir with a ghostly kiss, "I mean, I am," a mantra cried, In the silence where fears reside. Through the corridors of inner strife, Where battles rage to claim my life, "I mean, I am," a plea so raw, Yearning to break free from the claw. In the labyrinth of doubt and pain, Where doubts devour, leaving stains, "I mean, I am," a truth untold, In the heart's deepest, darkest fold. Through the chambers of desire's flame, Where passions burn with a fierce acclaim, "I mean, I am," a flame that yearns, For freedom from the soul's churns. In the recesses of the soul's retreat, Where shadows mingle with defeat, "I mean, I am," a whispered cry, Seeking solace 'neath the starry sky. In the crucible of self and fate, Where destinies weave and intertwine, "I mean, I am," a vow to be, Embracing all that makes me free. So let the echoes of "I mean, I am," Resound within, like a sacred psalm, For in that truth, I find my

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.

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Site Header

Deviation Actions

To Remember

Lost At Last

Echoed Memories

A look inside me

I mean, I am

I still believe in the stars above my head

To Remember

Lost At Last

Echoed Memories

A look inside me

I mean, I am

I still believe in the stars above my head

Time Traveller

Description

Bellacrix

jemmy2000

PhysicalMagic

UnKnown-Designer092

quaddles

To Remember

Lost At Last

Echoed Memories

A look inside me

I mean, I am

I still believe in the stars above my head