He stood by the sea
With a face hard as oak
And a voice strong and free
Shouting loud, he spoke
“I lived a full life
In the years behind me
I’ve seen hardness and strife
But knew who I’d be
A man among men
All others I have awed
I have overthrown kings
And stood beside God
All this I have done
With my strength and my spine
And all beneath the sun
Knew the world was mine”
All this he shouted at the sea
But the waves, they rolled eternally
“I loved with my heart
A woman that I knew
Of my soul she was part
And she loved me too
The strongest feelings
A man could ever know
Were part of our beings
With all love could
Walt's Princess: Prologue by WishExpedition23, literature
Literature
Walt's Princess: Prologue
Long ago, in a present-day kingdom unknown by neither the 20th nor the 21st century, there lived a queen called Sadia. She lived with her husband, King Philemon, and her two sons. Sadia and Philemon were very much loved by their subjects and have asked nothing more out of them. But one day, like her usual days, Queen Sadia looked out onto her kingdom and watched them do their daily business. The baker would bake his breads, pastries and cakes, the women sewed and spindled their fabrics for clothing, the blacksmith forging his metal, and finally she watched the children of her kingdom run off to school. Lately, Sadia has been eying on the litt
The easel is bowed
And canvas is stretched
All arced and ready
Weighted down with stones
Pitchers pile up
Their lids intermixed
A rainbow of fog
Stain of my cup
Brushes fill the tin
With rags from my clothes
Wait to be worn
Thinner than thin
My hand is high
To touch again
The blankness of love
The dreams where I've been
No hesitation
Without the function
To respond back to her
All circumvention
Re-navigation
Has brought me back to where
I am but helpless to stare
A palette of paint
A swath I have liked
To put upon
Colour a saint
Naked and dry
Solemnly slow strike
Into my heart
Right into my eye
A mind of fragment shards
Bones blanched heape
to reincarnate, to reinvent(ion)
holding up the tanned hide(ing) of myself
to the glare of a solar flaring
I'm never able to stare straight
into the light, turning violently electric,
its (in)tense ultra-violet, a strangle hold
jeering vocal cords, paralyzing
gagging in an effort, knowing how wrong
it feels in the vacuum of this void
a siren with no beginning and no end
of this negative reversal in x-ray
turning eye sockets inward, denying nothing
I met him accidentally. He was a bartender at an erotic exhibition. He was kind of cute and interesting, so I asked for his number. He didn’t refuse, but he didn’t give it right away too. He gave me an unsure answer to come a couple of more times and then I’ll get it. Well, I wanted to get it so I came. Then I got lucky and met him outside smoking with a friend who immediately gave me his number. That’s how it began.
Thanks to his friend we ended up spending the rest of the night together at a pub. I quickly was aware, that I liked him, which happened rarely with me (to be certain – 2 times before), but he was j
The Truthful Mirror
Liars are abundant. They are plentiful. They infest my life, slithering around crevices etched out of social situations and random encounters. They oppose themselves and everyone around them, jubilantly crossing the line of hypocrisy. Every second or so, a festival is thrown in honor of the birth of another lie.
The only thing which doesn't lie to me, is my mirror. It shows things the way they are. Pure and unaltered. It would sacrifice its own beauty by adopting my horrendous countenance.
It shows me my ugly self. The multiple, countless flaws I have inherited and earned. The lack of perfection is astounding, yet not s
You will not see me in a scarf
Which trails behind and tangles,
I don't state that bowties are cool,
And I don't play the flute
(Depends on old school
Or there's a new tool).
I do not blame one man for changes,
I do not rant about them, I am used
To those who think they're right,
Who are on this side and on that side, like day and night.
'Day' ones are sensible,
They despise Whovian
Who has his head in clouds,
Who wants to see the things
A bit deeper.
'Night' ones are fashion ones,
They despise Whovian,
That silly Whovian
Who doesn't want to show
His passion.
I am not waiting for the skyfall,
I watch the starlight which lights my way,
I kn