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The taste and smell of which
None can exemplify.
Falling in and out of control
Of lunar light.
Toxins and signals
Struggle to flow through tangled wires,
Struggle ever more.
Powered by lies,
Tangible matter and photons, at times,
A primitive mechanism
Now only wishes
To keep crawling on fluids
Other than those
II - AcerbosYou leave. I say your name
Without a voice.
I leave. You bid farewell
Without a choice.
Well-trodden labyrinths at dawn
Or just before.
My heart and mind indulge in brawl
Outside your door.
I'd sleep there, of my own free will,
Lulled by the humming still.
If only I could easily
Such promises fulfill.
Timeless and cowardly may seem
But carelessness revealed her now
Under a different light.
There's love, there's sympathy, -
Take no offence.
The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just the difference.
I - ElegosTo wail is to be weak -
Teach me then to suppress the grief,
Which still voice cannot speak.
To miss is to be true
But I missed once, and God knows why -
I fell in love with you.
I see it all - the oozing light
In sunset's coloured haze,
When you stood radiant and bright
As joyous summer days.
But now, behind those weary walls -
White blankets, tired eyes...
Fate stumbles as the sickness grows
And calls you to the skies.
How will you know what love there was
In my heart to appease?
Will I behold your fading smile
Before your breath shall cease?
What change, what difference may I pose
Before your timeless sleep?
And will our laugh still sound, once more,
In dreams so faint, so deep?
No hour to lament -
To lands unknown my flesh and bone,
Away, away I'm sent.
No promise to sustain
Life-giving ties, and other lies,
For life does not remain.
Untitled0Слова любви шлю без разбора
Я, пробудившись ото сна.
Ещё мне тема не ясна.
Ваша улыбка, друг сердечный
Мне явится из тени грёз.
Я утверждаю путь свой в
The Monstrous Soul. Chapter IIt was Morwenn's assignment. Not mine the words slowly oozed through Kiri's mind like a thick, mucoid plash of liquid sliding on a slippery surface, as the creaking van rocked back and forth, crawling on the uneven road. Again and again that night, Kiri fell for sleep's embrace as it seemed to be approaching, and every time sleep rejected him. Insomnia is double the torment when there is nothing but a thin layer of frosty glass under your head serving as a pillow for two consecutive days. His exhausted senses already adapted to the monotonous tapping of raindrops right under his ear, no longer bothering him at all and now the only source of restlessness for him was the endless torrent of thoughts thoughts, which ran like mad after several days of both physical and mental inactivity.
It was all to do with Morwenn. Wasn't it? The promotion he went on about, his pride to lead the research unit, his high zest. No, I never wrote a dissertation on protoplas
Futility - RussianВоздвигни его к солнцу,
Нежно будившему когда-то
В родных краях того солдата.
Под Ипром оно дух приподнимало,
Но до рассвета дух угас.
Что пробудит его сейчас, -
Through the glass windowIf she is like me, she must lie like me. She must hide her feelings behind a glass window just like I do. She must be egoistic, narcissistic, and megalomaniacal, be I sure that she is like me.
None of what she says sounds like truth, and that is just what I sound like. We are so diabolically identical. Afraid to scare each other away. We share soft words through the glass window and swear each others' affection. But she must lie like me, if it seems that we share so much.
What is so precious about the glass window. I love, she loves. The character, not the look.
We create artificial memories. So carefully plan the future, which will funnily enough never happen. Trust each other, but in the end we lie about the same things.
We love each other.
Through the glass window.
O Sancta SimplicitasJan Hus, the loss of inquisition
Impeding lie and superstition,
Opposing twaddles of the church
Was burnt and hanged up in a birch.
Dear priest, before your death chose well:
Landscape in heaven, company in hell.
Then osculate a crucifixion
And ask with subtle malediction:
O, blest simplicity, why has thy word
Deserted this benighted world?
LunaticsThe moon ascends, requiting earthly torture
Of insular aloofness far way.
Some lunatics collect to see the scorcher,
With stretched-out arms trying to catch her ray.
On wings of lonely consciousness, freeing
From daily burdens that exhaust the soul,
Towards her glide the ghostly human-beings,
All ears to the enchanted, madding vowel.
So frigidly and ravenously gleaming,
Giving a void promise in return,
The drag of art, through mind and body streaming,
Demands maneuvers, which I cannot learn.
Will I withstand the anguish it is bringing?
Am I prepared to please it's austere sight?
And will I sculpt while sanity is swinging
Tangible items in the lunar light?
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