Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Faint and distant in the air
Sadness, sorrow and despair
Are lusting after blood and bones.
They search and scream, they break the walls,
They cut through minds, through skin and hearts,
But they won’t ever catch their ball.
Cause silent pictures in our soul,
Which fight the darkness, take control
And bury them in bloody graves,
Inside the hearts of human kind,
There’s burning, freezing, dark desire –
A song of swords, a song of fire.
And therefore we will always burn,
Burn with hate and burn for love,
We’re angels singing heavens song,
But when we fall we’ll tear us down,
We realize how blind we are,
And start to freeze the burning scar.
Tell me how
knock.. knock?
Writing of joy instead of depression
Writing is like falling down deep inside your mind, your soul. You search for nothing and find everything you’ve never wanted to see. You can imagine so much more than you’ve ever achieved or witnessed. You can even make up pictures, sounds, scents and – worst or best of all – true feelings.
I don’t know if you understand what I’m talking about, but it is inspiring. Every time this happens to me, I feel so sad that I’m not able to collect what exactly is happening. It is just a blur, a sliver, a faint image of reality but yet it is a thousand times more impactful. And no matter how or when I try to catch it, I always fail. I guess most of us do.
But still I try to bring my thoughts down on paper. I try to find emotions I’ve had in songs or books, movies or games. I try to realize why I imagine these things that come to my mind. And again – most of the time I fail. This is about these special, creepy moments.
Enjoy!