A writer is someone who can spill their heart out into words.
They spin golden webs of thought,
And with every new word a readers mind is caught like a fly,
Unable to escape, unable to get free.
Yet, these webs are far too dangerous.
They hold stories that make the mind tremble,
They give more ecstasy than anything else in the world.
A writer's mind goes beyond the imagination.
No single concentrated idea,
But rather give the sole purpose of not concentrating at all.
They give the purpose filling;
Filling to the brink with ideas until they're written down and stored.
Forever.
This is a writer's mind.
Although, their though
Dream From a Blank Mind by StormyRozez, literature
Literature
Dream From a Blank Mind
Books are be my escape from reality
The words in black ink on their pages,
Are more addicting than drugs.
I long for the comfort and relaxation that lies within them.
I try to write them myself
But books and stories tend to write themselves.
I can see a film in my head
But the words used to describe what I see come from instincts.
They come from the dreams I can't remember,
The memories that I know are there,
But that I never really think about.
I'm a black hole. I suck everything in,
Then spit it back out, whenever I choose.
Writing is my therapy, books are my drug.
When I think of myself,
I'm reminded of the Forgotten Stable
Death is like a drug.
Once you see it, the memory never goes away.
Nagging at you like an addiction.
It saps the strength from you until there's nothing left
Then it leaves you like it did the rest.
Death is like a drug.
You can't get rid of it
No matter how hard you try.
It comes to take even the most unreasonable
It comes to take even the most innocent.
Death is like a drug.
The one thing, that no one knows
The one thing that no one can to sober from
Death is like a drug.
Death is The End.
Face in the mirror, what do you see?
When you look at me?
Do you see a girl, with washed brown hair, a toothy smile, and crooked eyes?
That's what I see, when I look at me,
But Face in the mirror, what do you see?
When you look at me?
Do you see my future? Painted in the eyes of the dead,
Do you see my thoughts, written on burnt pages?
That's what I see, when I look at me.
But Face in the mirror, what do you see,
When you look at me?
Dark novels with dark words, Wrinkled flesh, and weary bones?
That's what I see when I look at me.
Death in my eyes, and mind, and heart.
But Face in the mirror, What do you see?
When you l
Beauty with Hidden Sin
Today's society is overrun with beauty, focusing on little details such as the cause of ugliness, creating products that will make you more beautiful, and making objects that will create perfection; the media itself is obsessed with youth and beauty. However, the media is not the whole society. There are many, young, old, and anywhere in between, that don't follow society. Look at a community for example. The people in a community, families going back generations, will look past physical beauty. They will look at the things that really matter at the end of the day: relationships. Between spouses, parents to c
I'm the sinner
I'm the saint
I'm the girl behind the mask
A demon within the soul
With the face of an angel
I'm the lover
I'm the friend
I'm the son of the devil
The follower of God
The innocent child of death
I'm the sister
I'm the daughter
I'm the one that cares the most
I'm the demon behind the mask
I'm the evil in the shadows
I'm the light behind the sun
The darkness next to the moon
Hiding behind its shape
I'm the sinner
I'm the saint
I'm the lover
I'm the friend
And yet I feel no fear
Pretty colors
Dancing
Spinning in circles
Watching the sky
Watching the floor
Sky and ground, mixing together
Pretty colors
Black appears
With Red in tow
Mixing with the colors
Mixing with the sights
Pretty colors
Bright red flashes
Black edges in
Flashing lights
So beautiful
Pretty colors
Black takes over
Red swirls with black
Red so dark
It looks like blood
Pretty colors
Blockes out the white
Black all around
Red in dots
A writer is someone who can spill their heart out into words.
They spin golden webs of thought,
And with every new word a readers mind is caught like a fly,
Unable to escape, unable to get free.
Yet, these webs are far too dangerous.
They hold stories that make the mind tremble,
They give more ecstasy than anything else in the world.
A writer's mind goes beyond the imagination.
No single concentrated idea,
But rather give the sole purpose of not concentrating at all.
They give the purpose filling;
Filling to the brink with ideas until they're written down and stored.
Forever.
This is a writer's mind.
Although, their though
Dream From a Blank Mind by StormyRozez, literature
Literature
Dream From a Blank Mind
Books are be my escape from reality
The words in black ink on their pages,
Are more addicting than drugs.
I long for the comfort and relaxation that lies within them.
I try to write them myself
But books and stories tend to write themselves.
I can see a film in my head
But the words used to describe what I see come from instincts.
They come from the dreams I can't remember,
The memories that I know are there,
But that I never really think about.
I'm a black hole. I suck everything in,
Then spit it back out, whenever I choose.
Writing is my therapy, books are my drug.
When I think of myself,
I'm reminded of the Forgotten Stable
Death is like a drug.
Once you see it, the memory never goes away.
Nagging at you like an addiction.
It saps the strength from you until there's nothing left
Then it leaves you like it did the rest.
Death is like a drug.
You can't get rid of it
No matter how hard you try.
It comes to take even the most unreasonable
It comes to take even the most innocent.
Death is like a drug.
The one thing, that no one knows
The one thing that no one can to sober from
Death is like a drug.
Death is The End.
Face in the mirror, what do you see?
When you look at me?
Do you see a girl, with washed brown hair, a toothy smile, and crooked eyes?
That's what I see, when I look at me,
But Face in the mirror, what do you see?
When you look at me?
Do you see my future? Painted in the eyes of the dead,
Do you see my thoughts, written on burnt pages?
That's what I see, when I look at me.
But Face in the mirror, what do you see,
When you look at me?
Dark novels with dark words, Wrinkled flesh, and weary bones?
That's what I see when I look at me.
Death in my eyes, and mind, and heart.
But Face in the mirror, What do you see?
When you l
Beauty with Hidden Sin
Today's society is overrun with beauty, focusing on little details such as the cause of ugliness, creating products that will make you more beautiful, and making objects that will create perfection; the media itself is obsessed with youth and beauty. However, the media is not the whole society. There are many, young, old, and anywhere in between, that don't follow society. Look at a community for example. The people in a community, families going back generations, will look past physical beauty. They will look at the things that really matter at the end of the day: relationships. Between spouses, parents to c
I'm the sinner
I'm the saint
I'm the girl behind the mask
A demon within the soul
With the face of an angel
I'm the lover
I'm the friend
I'm the son of the devil
The follower of God
The innocent child of death
I'm the sister
I'm the daughter
I'm the one that cares the most
I'm the demon behind the mask
I'm the evil in the shadows
I'm the light behind the sun
The darkness next to the moon
Hiding behind its shape
I'm the sinner
I'm the saint
I'm the lover
I'm the friend
And yet I feel no fear
Pretty colors
Dancing
Spinning in circles
Watching the sky
Watching the floor
Sky and ground, mixing together
Pretty colors
Black appears
With Red in tow
Mixing with the colors
Mixing with the sights
Pretty colors
Bright red flashes
Black edges in
Flashing lights
So beautiful
Pretty colors
Black takes over
Red swirls with black
Red so dark
It looks like blood
Pretty colors
Blockes out the white
Black all around
Red in dots
Tagged by ~Lost-To-The-World (https://www.deviantart.com/lost-to-the-world)
1. Put your iTunes on shuffle (Or Mp3 Player, or whatever you use)
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS
4. Tag at least 10 friends who might enjoy doing the game as well as the person you got the note from.
1) IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY
Mama (My Chemical Romance)
She's mostly the person to say 'this is okay... But that doesn't really make a whole lot of sense.
2) WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Coming Clean (Green Day)
I am NOT a druggie!...I swear...
3) WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIR
Yeah, so...I won't be on much. I'm having a lot of trouble with life right now becuase either god hates me or the univers just likes to watch the little ants squirm, whichever it is is making my life basically a living hell-hole. So...yeah. Uhm, please fell free to go through the gallery or whatever, but don't expect a whole lot to be put up for the next week or so.
I need help! I want to submit some form of writing to TEENINK. But I can't choose which one is the best! If anyone has a preference on what poem they like, I will be keeping a ballad (at my home of course) and I will submit any peice that wins. Please help!
Stormmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy... I felt you needed a new comment on your wall. Also, you haven't been on in a while, but that's okay, because I see you almost every day...