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Sillva Nov 2018
There are phrases that I cannot explain when I speak to you.
Maybe it's  just a thought or maybe I've gone soft.
Like the clouds thinking its cotton candy, passed memories made  

Tears that
made Rain.

Roses I met indeed,
but let here rose peddles leading my scents to other messes.
My passion became no more an made the seas quiet.
Juliet WAS the name for all my lovers.
Juliet WAS only a costume to hide there names.
An empire I created with flirts
But it BURSTED -
out into flames
an became my worse nightmares
an my worst pains.
Trying to cover the sun with just a finger
Blindly out shined by it's own beauty.
A Mystery
Where misery has chased me,
An started to become Happy endings.
Errors paint my screen beneath the dark
Unworthy to ever press spellcheck.

Maybe is a curse of ur endless beauty
or has my eyes seen through  your purity.
A world of matters
Where I have dissolved my pasted.
To tell my thoughts that they have never forgotten you.
An say opportunities come rarely,  an let me be your overcoat when NightFalls.
                                          Yours Truly
Ottar Apr 2016
Ages past I was once a prized rose,
prized by a Beastly prince
prized by a promise since
filled, prized by a Beauty who chose
a simple request to be brought a single rose.

Please let me stop, to catch my breath
look not upon my petals withered
my thorns still own a fine point tapered
the Beast would not forgive the Merchant's transgress -
ion, so I was privy to a ransom demand, He then Beast, obsessed

that Beauty was to come of her own free will
otherwise Beast would the merchant ****,
(and remember I still lay on the ground, stock still
  not wanting to incur the wrath or step of ill will)
either of a Beast, my Master, or the Merchant, and his own disasters

to have arrived a thorn's point, a life and death balance, no act
no wonder once it was all done, I aged slower than the rest
but for Beauty missed her family and the Beast was in fact

Still a beast,

some say I was put under glass, some say under a magical spell
I was possibly picked up by beauty and she was pricked by a wicked thorn under her skin and a tiny drop of that love's blood sustained
me, think what that type of love, could do for the Beastly,


read the story for yourself, take a dusty book off the shelf
learn and live the lesson for your self and share your love,
like Beauty proclaimed hers,
and the Beast received then became the Prince,
from ugly, and the families all, filled the great hall,
Beauty had a marriage Banquet, the next day
I saw it all from my place, now let me retire, I fade faster
and in the end The Prince, his Beauty lived happily ever after.

Mind the thorns when you lay me to rest.
Beauty and the Beast
Fictional account of the classic in pen

— The End —