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A dreamer, a thinker
A lover, a friend.
A Mother, A drinker
A loser, a Win.
A Protector, A Provider
A Fighter, A Slave
A Sinner, A redeemer
A teacher, A Babe.
A Student, A Preacher
An Actor, A Queen
An Angle, A fiend
And everything between.
Endless roles thrown at me to play.
I wonder which ones I’ll choose today.
Beneath the MindBeneath the Mind
A Short Story by Faith Lucas
"Wait!" She yells. His voice is fading now, Desarae strains to understand the last thing he said.
"No, don't leave me yet. Stay here."
She can hear the door open and click shut. Even though she can't see him, she can't see anything but blackness, she knows he's gone.
Why couldn't he hear her? She was sure she was practically screaming at him.
Still a better question is where is she? Why can't she see? Why can't she move?! Panic starts to creep over her as a blurry memory starts to resurface.
Her body feels heavy, like a ton of cement is lying on top of her. This isn't right, she thinks.
A memory of her, walking down the sidewalk, the sun is bright, hot. The birds are loud. Chirping cheerfully. The heat feels wonderful on her face. She's enjoying the feeling of finally having a moment
One tear... dearly spent. (Act-I)
I see their faces, they, the unloved ones, dry eyes, no smiles, just a stark and desperate gaze, bereaved of care, hope, love.
Each little face gazing bleakly on through the fractured glass of a picture frame, but not at me...
I lay it down, gently. For I'll find no comfort in it, only remnant shards of a forgotten memory, one soon to pass with me long into the halls of eternity.
This the equal sum of all my years. One just memory, fare earned, bought at a fair price, one of ill deeds and a blackened soul.
I feel pain, for myself, for this world, for the last time. Also fear, so real to me now, that he, this dark loathsome one, would leave me behind.
Unwanted as unworthy, to remain here, a fool in purgatory.
The cold now grips me as if embraced by it, just as a mother would an inconsolable child.
I look into the deepest dark, and ask him. "What is Hell like?" He took no notice, and ask me for the time.
But his question went unanswered, for the
EnchantedA golden apple tang
Heralds summer's brightest fire
But I prefer to amble in
In the darkest corners
There are no haunted whispers
And only caramel shadows
Transfer daylight's memories
For unto me the stars
Snapping leaves leading moonlight
Are not my coldest lonely hour
But a renewal of soul
TruthLogic is seeing
Pain is teaching
Blindness is strength
Balance seeks itself
My soul is sooted
Desperate for YouDay by day
Block by block
Tree by tree
Tear by tear
Day by day
Trials and temptation at my door
As the grass grows in the world
My soul being put to the test
Day by day
Every hour and every second
Realizes that I am desperate for the Lord
For the Lord to hold me from falling
Lord, I'm desperate for You
My heart tears and wears from a lack of Your wisdom
I thirst and hunger for You
Lord, You hear my cries and You know that I am desperate for more of You
Lord, You are the only who fills my lungs with air
Lord, You are the only that speaks words into my mouth
Lord, You are the only one that makes my heart beat louder than drums
I'm desperate for more of You; Lord, I'm desperate for You
Teach me Lord to worship You with all that I am on my knees
To depend on You and have Your way in every part of my life
Lord, I am desperate for more of Your love
Lord, I am desperate for more of You in my life
You are the only one that will last forever
You are the only one that will love forever
You are t
you can runfather, father, will no one see us,
will the sun shield us with her bedouin cloth,
years from now will i be ashamed of what i had or
when i was whimpering in the open under dust-
soaked banners of the sun
father, father, mouth to your ear,
my sand-golem, have you ever been, if yes,
have you ever been here,
will we tumble down the crater, father,
will we let them pass,
who would be searching for us
between the frigid lips of the desert,
who would send hounds after us
except they're running,
who would leave tracks of dried saliva,
tumbleweed tongues, father,
are they far away and are we cowards
and if we are,
father father, will no one see us,
will my wish be granted,
will i be cocooned in sandstorm daggers
to be blinded, ten
years from now when i crawl out of the crat
hauras (fragments)English version below
kastepisara kielon luomessa
peitteesi lehden suojassa
in a dream,
a dewdrop on a petal
in the shadow of your leaves
you awoke from our dream
a new morning
your tears and i to mist;
yesterday to oblivion.
Soul of fire;
Yet always the same.
Shall I write to thee
On this hot summer day,
While I wait for the paint to dry?
Who so many fear and loathe
To the very last day that they live.
Who so effortlessly stole my heart
Before I knew I had one to give.
Parent of monsters;
A term so subjective,
As you and I know
So very well.
Shall you smile again
In the face of adversity,
And every wound and weakness belie?
As you do,
By telling naught but truth.
As you must,
To frail sensitivities soothe.
You are not,
Though you'll pretend to it
You can be,
Upon no terms but your own,
Free and untameable spirit;
You belong to none
Yet, for better or worse,
To any and everyone else.
FreeYour mind is beautiful
Your thoughts intrigue me
And yet you keep moving so,
As if to tease me.
I see you through the clouds
Rays of sunshine peeking
I'd love to seek you out
But our time is fleeting
Keep speaking your soul
One day it will reply
Maybe not with gold,
but diamonds in the sky.
Earth inspires freedom
But the Heavens instill humility
Ahh, I see the wisdom.
And endless possibilities.
Keep dreaming with me,
I believe our plot ends the same
With our hearts set free
And the wind calling our name
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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