Oooh, cool!..
The Red Snake and his BrotherSaid the white snake to his red brother "When is wine a different color?" "In the sunset or the twilight," said the fairer, "And in the morning it's no rarer." "But that is not to say," said he, "For each and other, that is all that's wont to be, "So do not heed these few words of mine. "Kindly note what is mine is thine."The Red Snake and his Brother
Breaking the NewsBreaking the News:Breaking the News
Princess, don’t jump to conclusions. My selfish illusions demand
I give to them truth, clear and light, Be it day, be it night I must Share my delight with all who see But don’t understand he, and I Should live, should be everlasting.
Broken Stanza, No. 62My life is a poem of broken stanzas.Broken Stanza, No. 62
The space outside the doors bangs with muffled pleads. The man outside, a world apart, he’s still a boy. Trying to save me while attempting to convey some semblance of my continued worth and capability to the rest of our world.
He’s probably panicking now. I’ve locked the door from the inside, shutting him out, shutting me away. Where I am now is no prison, but it is my self-imposed cage, my exile. Responding to my continued silence, he dreads the horrific sights he thinks may lurk behind the door: my swinging corpse, my serrated veins, or perhaps my spilling organs upon this cold
At the bus stopA woman spoke some words of yours tonight And I, within them saw what stood Among the future's twined possession. This gave rise to introspection Upon such thoughts of days (nearby) When academics will agree Your contemplation does one good But the woman, homeless, I understood For she was you, as you are we. Not even time to blink an eye Her beam of truth, too quick, too bright Took my thoughts a new direction Might things for you end not quite right?At the bus stop
By A ThreadDarkness and despair Are hanging by a hair Falling over dead Is hanging by a thread It's like I breathe a different air.By A Thread
Watching people walking Watching people rocking How can they ignore That life is such a bore And just keep talking?
My life is slowly slipping The world is quickly tipping I want to end it all My heart must be so small I can feel it ripping.
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Tiger? WHERE!?! WHERE!?!
mirrin.storm-artists.net mirrin.deviantart.com
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So the Silmarils were made. Like the crystal of diamonds they appeared, and yet were more strong than adamant.
Guest of the *HotelTransylvania, Room B01-02
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"I keep writing letters to my rubbish bin..."
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Death ain't the career move it used to be!
The Forbidden Library [link]
Books Burnt by the Nazis [link]
Article 58 (RSFSR Penal Code) [link]
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“You know, I’m Beowulf, you know, I’m Grendel. I don’t know who I am. But they’re after me.” - MC (Karl) Rove
imTH:_R{K},ost{T}U//pb
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hope you're having a good time here, working with ur arts, and keep it all up
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Jiwaku Tergulai Lembut
Bandung ke Jakarta, Tubuhku Bermetamorfosa <
I hope you have a nice stay here!
thats me
ahhelga
aka Pauline
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At least 92% of people on deviantART have whiny, untruthful percentages in their sigs. If you're one of the 8% who don't, paste this in your... oh. Oh wait.
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