DiminutiveMage
19/F/Somewhere Not England
I'm a crocheter of scarves and other things, a practitioner of breathing life to words that come into my head, a diminutive mage struggling to tame her dragons, and a writer wandering down the paths of her imagination with quill and parchment in hand.
If our smiles were to touch,
By a little or by much,
I fear that we might break—
For the chance of true love’s sake.
So we only look, and sigh.
We love alone, until we die.
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 4:39 PM UTC
In smoke and dust and ash we die,
We little men, under a ****** sky.
I hope heaven saw us here,
I hope hell knows we’re near.
Bad men, good men, great men, all,
We fought, we cried, and now: we fall.
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 3:41 AM UTC
The world is always-whirling; a constant, topsy-twirling.
We were born to be all-yearning; lessons ever-learning;
To follow like the sun, the day once it's begun.
We'll do whatever it might take, mistake upon mistake,
To live a dream within our mind, even if it isn't what we'll find.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
I am lonely here tonight,
Lying under heaven's light.
I can see a million stars,
While I wonder where you are.
I am lonely as I wait,
Just beyond this garden gate,
To peer into the past,
Where we two will always last.
I am lonely as I stand
Where the waters kiss the sand,
As I look beyond the sky
To the days of you and I.
I am lonely in this place
Where I cannot see your face.
I miss you now you've gone
But I know you're moving on.
I am lonely here tonight,
As I lie beneath moonlight.
I am lonely, lonely, lonely,
You were my one; my only.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 4:07 AM UTC
Thou art my heart, and I shiver at the knowing.
Thou art my soul, and I linger on because of it.
Thou art my better, and I wish forever with thee.
Thou art my best beloved, and I cannot be apart.
Thou art more to me than thee canst know:
Thus I bid you, dearest-
Don't go.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 3:50 AM UTC
We each own something terrible,
But we know it not at all.
It bites at us and fights with us;
Daring us to fall.
The conscious is a fearsome beast—
Says things we hate to hear.
It growls at us and howls at us;
Warning it is near.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 3:43 AM UTC
In the darkness something’s lost,
It was broken with the frost.
In the mountains an echo rings,
Calling to forgotten things.
On the wind the whisper sighs,
And a shadow, falling, dies.
In the weeping of the rain,
A high wail goes up again.
In the silence of the night,
He searches without a light,
To find everything he's sought
In the world that he forgot.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 3:23 AM UTC