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When The Bell TollsThey fell upon a midnight oil;
A gold mine; heart and soul.
They joined a passion so deepest heart,
Until the iridescent bell rung and toll.
They sang their song; each other's words,
Actions blessed in unity.
They embraced their emotions and with their mouths,
Promised love for eternity.
As time went on, the lover's held,
Sweet embraces o'er years.
Love and peace sank in their hearts,
Eyes so filled with tears.
Beneath the blackened yet starlit sky,
They whispered nothings so pure.
They overcast a wistful song,
Each others overture.
Deathly banishment came and sought,
One last embrace, one frightened word,
Wished living of long years.
Pain and grief tore the heart,
Heaven shed its tear.
Whispering sweet nothings to,
A lover, yet gone, still here.
Alone, afraid, cold to the bone,
Hardened by one death.
Still seeks calm in times of trial,
On a lover, which dying wreath.
The DreamerHe ran up and over the mountain towards the glorious city of Glentow.
His bare feet dug into the hot desert sand as he raced across the mountainous dunes, passed the rare desert shrub and over a carcass.
He panted hard, the desert air burning his lungs.
He cried as he tripped on a twisted, dry, log, landing face-first in the sand. Standing, he recovered, and spat out the mouthful of dirt.
He ran again.
Paul ran as fast as he could, bare feet blistered, boiled and scratched. Painfully, he continued forward to the magnificent city. He could see it now; it shone in the Sun; the glass buildings looming above the horizon.
'Almost there ' the Dreamer panted.
Suddenly the scene changed. He was no longer wearing a white toque, and he was no longer bare foot. He was no longer running through the desert, and his feet were no longer injured.
He was in a rainforest.
He was wearing a camouflaged jacket, a bullet-proof hat, army boots and was carrying a rifle. A bayonet was attached sturd
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More