

Fatalizeendeavor rinses to bloom the prickling senses then to consume the slippery knot and rancid perfume we take from womb the dire plotFatalize


Judge Not The Genre of My WordPainters, tread not upon my Art For they are paintings too. My black and white landscapes are just as vivid as your pastels. Musicians, laugh not at my composures For it is music too. Their rhythms are just as soothing as your finest symphonies. Sculptors, scorn not my chiseled rock For this stone is thinking too. These statues form far greater poses than your bits of clay. Photographers, speak not against my portraits For they are pictures too. My photographs capture things your greatest lenses cannot find. Artists, I ask that you please listen Judge not the genreJudge Not The Genre of My Word


star-soulI want to leave my skin behind To run and fly in my natural-born soul I want to see thunder and taste lightning Flow with the ocean to a brand-new shorestar-soul
If when I get there they confine me Once again in mortal flesh, After that taste of freedom bind me, Ill howl out the anger in my breast.
I will escape my gilded cage Perfumed and painted so as pleasant to be. Ill run up a waterfall, into the dark nights stars Among like souls I shall be free.
So if you find, once I am gone away A star that never stays still long And i
...
--
~*AsH*~
--Click the gummy...
=simplyfate and ~Bssnst06 =
--
Catapultam habeo. Nisi pecuniam omnem mihi dabis, ad caput tuum saxum immane mittam
(I have a catapult. Unless you give all of your money to me, I will fling an enormous rock at your head)
--
a photograph should capture the rare moments of life so that it could speak for itself.
Previous Page12Next Page