Sometimes, when the light is glaring you so brightly in the face that its all you can see, you become blinded by it. Others can see it, they can't miss it, it fills their vision and their eyes with a harsh, unrelenting brilliance that they can't escape. But what happens when that's all you've seen for as long as you can remember? If we were concieved and born in the brightest, most blaring of lights, would we still instinctively fear the dark? Would we even know that a darkness existed? Naturally, if we were born into such light, and then saw darkness, we would fear it because we didn't know it, or come from it, and therefore it would be alie
"Please don't leave me..."
There were no tears. There was no tone of desperation...She whispered it more like a sad melody composed on a rainy afternoon in a dark room, a melody that the composer has a strange affinity for... The type of melody that has a beautiful yet haunting harmony, with notes that resonate and are elegant in their simplicity, and that you listen to intently even though its predictable. The kind of melody that is eerie, romantic, and yet devastating, it holds you captive and you listen, entranced, even though you know exactly how tragic the ending will be.
Her voice was the sound at the end, the dissonant yet clearly fi
Masquerade
Wearing a mask, lost in the dance.
Unsure of whos who,
Caught up in the trance.
Whirling and twirling,
Moving in rhythm.
My mask has fallen,
My face is unhidden.
The spinning speeds faster,
The world turns to colors
Streaming around me
With one another.
The masks are falling,
Crushed
Beneath our feet.
But were moving too fast,
Only our eyes meet.
My vision tunnels inward,
I cant see your face.
All I know is the dancing
We do in this place.
I long to pull you out
Of this whirlwind of confusion.
To stop
This complicated, intricate illusion.
But I cant pull outward
Im lost
Whispers...
Whispers
Echo on my skin
As the night closes in.
I feel the cool
As it seeps,
To touch the bottoms
Of my feet.
The wind dances
An eerie waltz
Across the fields
And flowers.
And still,
I stand in my window,
Dreaming away the hours.
The stars
Twinkle,
Blink their eyes,
Theyre watching me
As I demise
Into darkness.
The shadows
Walk on my walls
As the moon plays
Its games.
And still the room is
Dark and cold,
A flicker of life remains.
The candle
Upon the window sill
Was blown out long ago.
Spiders have resurrected it since,
Made it a beam for their homes.
And still I sit,
Wait and wonder,
Will
Current Residence: Colorado, USA Favourite genre of music: Modern Rock Favourite style of art: Pretty much everything... From Renaissance-type realism to Impressionism... Operating System: Windows xp Professional Edition MP3 player of choice: iPod Favourite cartoon character: I've always been kind of fond of Tweety Bird.