ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
A dream is a wish your heart makes,
and I don't know what to do,
Because every time I close my eyes,
All I see is you,
And in every face I see,
I'm reminded of you,
I wish I could let you know,
But you don't even have a clue,
Will my heart break,
If I let you hold it in your hands,
Or will it grow stronger,
And give the right commands,
Or would it be a big mistake,
And make my heart turn and ache,
Or would it shatter to pieces,
And break,
Would it be that big of a mistake?
and I don't know what to do,
Because every time I close my eyes,
All I see is you,
And in every face I see,
I'm reminded of you,
I wish I could let you know,
But you don't even have a clue,
Will my heart break,
If I let you hold it in your hands,
Or will it grow stronger,
And give the right commands,
Or would it be a big mistake,
And make my heart turn and ache,
Or would it shatter to pieces,
And break,
Would it be that big of a mistake?
Literature
My everlasting wish
Once again I submerged in the cold arms of darkness,my everlasting torment, that endless river of sorrow,sobs, screams and laments.
The reality doesnt want to be my friend, and leaves me on my own, as if she was ashamed, or even worst, as if she wants to run away from me.
"Hope is what make us strong,it is why we are here, it is what we fight for when all else is lost"**
However, when i look back, i cant see anything, only darkness, ahead of mine there is a door, i run and run, but i never reach it, and the more i run, the further away i find myself of it, its is a big irony ... indeed.
While im writing this words, my tiredness gets wors
Literature
Prepared
I cried until my eyes dried out and the world became black.
I bled until my heart stopped beating and my skin went cold.
I loathed until my soul collapsed and my mind grew dark.
This was when my demons handed me a mask of the face I used to wear and whispered
Go on. Life can't hurt you anymore.
Literature
Metus
One flat night, the wind stilled itself like a breath held in the worst kind of anticipation; the moment when you realize, too late, that everything has gone wrong with every carefully laid plan. Every alibi come to naught in the face of something far too dark to even be given shape: gloried in the feverish tongues of those men who spread their crazed scripture to those who pass beneath their perches just out of reach.
Fear.
The word dances across the lips of the multitudes, washing away serenity and sense, slathering a coat of ashen sludge across our hearts and burrowing into the mind like some virulent maggot, squirming for that last litt
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
A poem written a long time ago, about 10 years as I recall, about wondering if this love will hurt.
© 2012 - 2024 Cinders8328
Comments4
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
It's pretty good!