Oh how mighty
Our sandcastles once were
But now in their place
Only lay lost tomorrows
In a tower
Fear and hope
But one day
She made her crown out of thorns and broken things and built a castle in her ruins
and became a forgiving queen.
You see the castle from the sand.
You look at it and wonder.
How could be castle so impact.
So beautiful and grandeur.
You drawing pictures in your mind.
That you will life in castle.
But you have glasses on your eyes.
The sunshine blind your real vision.
It wasn't true.
It's just your mind.
Was drawning pictures of the castle.
One day you will wake up and see around a real life.
There is no castles.
No more lie.
Someday you'll see all clearly.
Don't draw illusions of the castle.
I always wanted to
Be a princess
For as long as I
Can remember I
In Mario Kart
In Super Smash Brothers
And as the little
Boy who always
To play it wasn't
Back in the
But I was
I was ****
And I needed
One place that
Showed I was really
To build a wall,
around her heart
was so easy
brick by brick
one at a time
for every hurt
a castle was built
to protect her soul
from the world
full of lies !!
Mystery Island across from me. I wish I had the tools to come
and see all the treasures and secrets within.
I wish I had the means to crossover before it grows too dim.
But instead, I will just sit and wonder what mysteries you hold.
A flower, a book, and a bit room to breathe, I will sit here and
let my imagination run away with me.
Weaving a picture of what is within. I see it as a castle built
from the outside-in.
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
The snowflake is castellated cold,
Of chill crenellations and turnings narrow.
Court of pie-powders and gray-skied brazier smoke,
Of inner mazework dimmed to ****** holes,
Or the hooded machicolations from tower spire
Of oily darkness and arrowslits of Greek fire.
The snowflake is Medieval reliquary,
The frozen skull of rain and blood clear of sin,
Wind-captive with its prayer of quiet
On quietest lips, close to wine and sacrament.
Or the chapel and its waxen paramours
Of incorrupt body and candlelight upon the moors.
The snowflake is the mighty frozen spark,
Fire-forged and ironwrought,
Under the eye of Hephaestus,
Blacksmith of sorrow’s wind.
Have you ever heard, about the castle — Stain?
It is standing in so beautiful land, called Oberkrain ...
When I go there, my eyes have no time to rest,
that is the place of "mine" and I feel the best!
In the Spring, I listen to the birds, how they sing
and so far in the distance, the church bells ring ...
When I was young and foolish, it was like my home,
it sounds silly, I felt like a Ruler of the mighty Rome ...
I am so much older now and the times are hard,
but, they do not respect you, there is no regard!?
In my heart, all these memories will still remain
and, I will always know the laughter and the pain ...