Poetry is the rhythmical recreation of beauty in words - Edgar Allan Poe
Dynasty Ho
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One thing about emperors that you should know - they are freaking unfortunate, it's so darn hot in that darn costume of theirs. And I wore it for just 15 minutes.. Imagine a day in that costume..fuh...
Innocence is the beauty of a flower untouched and fresh from the sun with few drops of dew hanging from the leaves Innocence is the stillness of a rock the unnoticed nature of greyish composition with nothing but a dull complexion dreading its existence Innocence is the heart of human the pounding porcelain creation of God with nothing but the mind to tease and turn it into dust
This is one of those times that I can really feel like crying but then I cannot. Sometimes it hurts real bad if you're suddenly disappointed. The feeling is like that of being on top of a ladder, enjoying a picturesque and panaromic view and then out of a sudden the ladder gives in to your weight, fall sideways and you come crashing down to good-old Earth. Sometimes it can be much higher still. Maybe on top of a building. Or clouds perhaps. But all these do matter not. Whether or not you die after you crashed or just suffer from few minor blemishes, you have fallen still, short of what you expect to have before all the hopes come crashing down with the disappointment leading the way. It is sad. Yes it is. But you ask yourself while typing this down with trembling fingers - Is it worth the toil of your heart when many other things are waiting for you up there? If only you can just stand up, take a deep breath, take hold of the fallen ladder and lean it up against the wall again, you...
To live and die at the same time, means much to the soul and the mind as the overbearing myth of ascension takes over from within, you'll see for yourself the wisdom that stifles the truth. To live and die at the same time, means much to the deaf and the blind crescendoing collapse of the sex of insanity wild straws and bamboo shoots, you'll see for yourself the folly that ignites the passion. It is not (though easy it may yet seem) to live and die at the same time, but if I could search forever for a moment or fill a million jars with memorie it would be to live and die with you ( purgatorial? ) and finally proclaim, eius est usque ad coelum et ad inferos
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