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or, is it?
of nightmares gone hope
the unsullied beauty
desire is wild
is a nomad
further and ahead
drown the past, deeper
if you must
but never forget
how to trace your footsteps back
to the knowledge of pain;
would rather un-remember
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Wasted YouthHe was a lost man, trapped in a web
of expectation spun by family and priests.
His youthful energy sapped, he marinated in his misery.
His heavy shirt of denial clung to him
What if others might see the ailing man
trapped within this garment of fear?
He believed their eyes looked right through him,
that they could see the shadow of his shameful secrecy.
Children Of The StormChildren Of The Storm
Night after day clouds draw blueprints
Of promises we should not repeat
Mistakes of those before us
Threaten we'll get burned and then retreat
However, we exchange kisses aloud
So carelessly proud of love
That to world is but a thorn in the heel
As if it was a shame to feel...
Sweet moments are meant just for rent
Cunning books viciously say
While subtle faces give us sour grins
Then quickly look away
Is this what we've been searching for?
I neither know nor care
What matters at the end of day
Is whether you are there
I don't mind if sky's overcast
May rain fall down with walls
In your arms I found home at last
And when the thunder calls
Two children of the storm we are
Our foreheads make the roof
Drenched with downpour but soaked with love
As heart is waterproof
SkilletFatdrips from my fingertips and frizzles in the pan
Going to an alley soon to meet a man called Shady Dan
If my manic depression's in control I might dig a hole
In my backyard somewhere to bury freckles, warts and moles
Loose as a goose and ten feet tall the clouds float past my eyes
Shaken to my roots but I don't have the ducts to cry
I dropped them off in some old shop somewhere to be repaired
Now I can't find my way back even if I wanted to go there
Brimming with suspicion the fat neighbors glare in synch
The free-range monkeys pull and tug and bring me to the brink
Of having what I used to have but can't find anymore
Before I started yodeling and opened all those doors
The doors that open up to rooms with doors and then more doors
Until I'm tired from traveling nowhere and become more than bored
Even killer clowns in a drive-by spree can't wake me from my dream
And so I go to sleep in stasis and forget about every-anything
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More