

the beauty of bereavementThe dusk smells of spring’s coming bloom, creeping in from the wake of winter’s ravaging gloom as we stand alone in the arcane garden time once forgot. Through shimmering moonlight, a trace of beauty I spy, a lovely silhouette against the darkened sky. Shadowless, I glimpse your form as it flits about in the darkness beyond my sight and out of grasp. Ever so delicately your scent wafts graciously into my fold, and I am complacent now to sit and dream here under the stars forever. The moonlight ebbs with the flow of the night and the stars reflect on your silken garments in angelic delight. Entranced by the darkness in your eyes, your lips regthe beauty of bereavement
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Danyell™: Because instant gratification takes too long
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"..science is no more than an investigation of a miracle we can never explain, and art is an interpretation of that miracle."
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"Hold your head up high and know: It's not the end of the world."
"And she said I was the brightest little firefly in her jar."
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Brent Russell [`Azildin]
Visit #Gaydom: A Gay Friendly Place
is Male
is a deviant since Jul 30, 2004, 1:44 AM
has 900 pageviews
is located in United States
is currently
is an AIM user; the colin theory
is a Yahoo Messenger user; the_colin_dementia
MMMWWWAAHAHAHAHAHA.....haha....*shrugs* anyway nice place you have here ^-^
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the pain is sliping away....the happyness i seek is still lost....I'm i becoming what i once was..."normal"?
Cogito, ergo doleo.
is Male
is a deviant since Jul 30, 2004, 1:44 AM
has 900 pageviews
is located in United States
is currently
is an AIM user; the colin theory
is a Yahoo Messenger user; the_colin_dementia
MMMMWHAHAHAHAHAHA.......hahaha....*shrug * anyway nice place you got here ^-^
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the pain is sliping away....the happyness i seek is still lost....I'm i becoming what i once was..."normal"?
Cogito, ergo doleo.
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Dream forever
Sultana
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Quand il avait fini de faire rire la petite sultane, au temps des Heures Roses de Mazenderan, celle-ci demandait elle-meme a ce qu'il s'amusait a la faire frissonner.
~Chapitre XXII
"Le Fantome de L'Opera"
par Gaston Leroux
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the monastery stood towering above the ruined city
it shadowed all the new emerging settlements and homes
to look down on the ruins was to sympathize and pity
all the suffering and heartache, all the graves and broken bones
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