Do you see what I see? Do you hear what I hear? Songs of Joy, Silence of Pain; Pride and Triumph, Prayers and Tears; When the Righteous Flourish, the People Rejoice, But when the Wicked Rule, the People Groan.
This is not a fantasy book. This is not a story were the girl gets her prince and the boy slays the dragon. This is not a story with a wicked witch or magic shoes. This is real life.
The girl paints on a smile and the boy drinks away his fears. The dragons are our deepest darkest thoughts. The wicked witch is our crippling depression. the magic shoes are just shoes we wear to make us seem like we have life handled. This is real life.
This is not a movie where everyone lives happily ever after. This is a world were some people don't even live. This is a place were people are just surviving. This is real life.
Sometimes our journey seems like a fairy tale but for the majority of the time it is filled with pain,stress, and anxiety.
This town is too dark for picnics, But it’s just perfect for skinny dipping. Just dark enough to accept Your body image. Your bumps, blemishes, rolls and curves. The intestines swerved, Our skin merged, And you can only Find your love for me in the darkest of towns. I miss the bright lights that used to greet me- But now I like it better when the moon meets me.
The wolf came upon us all to devour the wicked and the weak he would stare into your eyes if he sensed you were good and true he would walk away leave you and yours to live another day So when the wolf came near I chose to stand next to you
they say blood is thicker than water but haven't they heard of ichor?
ichor; the deep felling within, when you sense that something may go wrong but let's set that thought aside because you don't know what happens when the blood boils of gods and goddesses or when the hues of gold and silver yearn for solitude as they transform into something new; more precious, more expensive. falling from the slick blade of a hero, poison to any mortal. but us- humans- are wicked. if that blade falls into our palms, we'd corrupt the world by spilling ichor for our mutual misunderstandings. so we let ichor fall back into history- a curse for the reader- hoping one day that it'll fall into innocent hands so that once again, unleashed from it's chains, would come Hade's hounds coming to get you.
and when i try to look, through the red velvet curtains, of my murky room, i see moon, drenched in blood, looking as vicious as it could be, half red moon, moon tinted with red drops, drops of her blood, and no matter what i try, to look for, a red haunted moon, is all i see, oh i see it......