19/F/lost in the realm of Ink. Stories and poems lay here
The question is what are you ready to hear?Are you ready to face the force of change Are you ready to see if you will never think the same? Proceed dear reader, becuse thats what you do. take part in my world for An hour or two 359 followers / 6.7k words
Notre Dame is burning to the ground people are sobbing in the streets all around the world. How helplessly we watch as you become engulfed in flame. You endured everything, the French Revolution and two world wars.. standing as a beacon of Christianity and history for 850 years. Now the bones of your cathedral lie fragile, as angels cry for the loss of your majesty; My heart too burns in anguish, this Monday after Palm Sunday. How beautifully you held your cross aloft almost touching heaven with it's gleaming.
Love is only earned You can’t demand love Especially not I For I am not deserving
I can love I can feel I can look I can experience But none of that means anything to love
She only bestows those she considers worthy As if an apple tree Some people have sweet apples Some people have big apples Some people have juicy apples But my tree is nonexistent
Not because there aren't any apples left For there are plenty of them All baring seeds To make the tallest of trees And the crispest of fruits But I never deserved it Not a single fruit
Don't share your tree with me I’m not allowed to accept I am not deserving of the delicious food I’m not allowed to eat the fruit For me it is forbidden All i'm allowed to do is sit here And endure the emptiness That rests at the core of my being For it is the only fate fit for me
She stood on my porch, the lady in gold She stood there until I dared to open the door She needed inside, but for what?
My lady in gold, she called towards me, but only pain could follow My lady in gold, murmuring to herself, questioning her own philosophy My lady in gold, wondering if I even cared enough about her to save her
And I, the heartless coward And I, the spiritless shell of a man And I, the miserable being killing the lady in gold
She held herself on a pedestal for the world to see And when I doubted her, she fell from her self assumed grace My lady in gold, now covered in soot from the earth below
He is an old friend I know he is But he won't leave And I hate needing him He’s a poison To everything around him But he does it well He poisons you sweetly With sugar and spice And everything nice Until he gets bored Then he reveals his true eyes And I know he's a cruel being But I long for his touch Feeling pain is better than nothing at all
Why do I need him So, if he is the fruit of my sorrow?