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Literature Text
Sincerity and Serenity.
"Little White Rose",
why is your bud closed nearly all year around?
Do you attempt to exceed a violet's shyness,
or is it perhaps you chose this path so not to show the inner beauty that radiates brightly within...?
You, "Morning Beauty", fear the darkness.
The endless night consumes all in its path,
leaving not a trace behind as its jaws open and close.
White petals still drink from fresh moonlight, its shine being seen by whom?
Someone...yet no one.
Alone in this world, other than the thistle bush by your side.
But then...another rose blooms, its nurturer being the very fear such purity holds,
a color being held so darkly shaded of purple..it is nearly black.
This light.
This heavenly glow...something never seen before.
Its first ray of such exposed to it, attracting the plant.
Like a moth to a flame, the darkly colored rose is attracted, wishing only to approach it.
So foreign to one born into darkness, but intriguing nonetheless.
Alas..it can only stare at this shy beauty as it attempts to
look away, staring from afar within its dark blankets.
May something named "impure" forever glow as tonight.
And this night..then many nights after until it manages to wilt,
the lights turned off.
"Little White Rose",
why is your bud closed nearly all year around?
Do you attempt to exceed a violet's shyness,
or is it perhaps you chose this path so not to show the inner beauty that radiates brightly within...?
You, "Morning Beauty", fear the darkness.
The endless night consumes all in its path,
leaving not a trace behind as its jaws open and close.
White petals still drink from fresh moonlight, its shine being seen by whom?
Someone...yet no one.
Alone in this world, other than the thistle bush by your side.
But then...another rose blooms, its nurturer being the very fear such purity holds,
a color being held so darkly shaded of purple..it is nearly black.
This light.
This heavenly glow...something never seen before.
Its first ray of such exposed to it, attracting the plant.
Like a moth to a flame, the darkly colored rose is attracted, wishing only to approach it.
So foreign to one born into darkness, but intriguing nonetheless.
Alas..it can only stare at this shy beauty as it attempts to
look away, staring from afar within its dark blankets.
May something named "impure" forever glow as tonight.
And this night..then many nights after until it manages to wilt,
the lights turned off.
Literature
REMEMBER THE DAYS WE DREAMED
Remember. Sometimes something minuscule is beautiful.
Everlasting tides?
Morning sunrise?
Even things as simple as a touch of a hand to remind you of...
Memories you once cherished so dearly.
But we can't always see it.
Each of us suffocating in sorrow unable to grasp anything else to breathe.
Reach up and break the water.
To all. Everyone. I love you.
Hell- even those I have yet to meet.
Everything seems so painful but remember I love you. Even if I am nothing but a voice on the wind.
Damning ourselves and inflicting wounds be they physical or otherwise.
All of us burning under one sun and yet too blinded to see those beside us.
You thin
Literature
The encounter
I looked forward to see a dragons huge chest close enough for me to touch. I look up to see the dragons long neck.
It wasn’t a giant dragon, but it wasn’t tiny. It could swallow me whole though I bet it could.
There was a lump moving from its head down to its neck. It must have just swallowed something. I watched as the lump quickly moved down the dragons neck , then disappeared into its chest. I could hear whatever it swallowed as it entered its stomach, but I could hear something else as well.
I could hear a heartbeat. I knew it wasn’t mine, I could tell the heart must have been in its check right in front of me, or some
Literature
People.
There are all kinds of people in the world,
People to be loved, and people to be hated.
Some people cause fear and distrust among others around them.
Some people make people flock around them like sheep, leading them.
People can even get close to you, and develop bonds.
Sometimes these bonds can grow, and flourish, leading to great friendships.
These powerful, sometimes everlasting bonds, these friends, can be the hardest thing to shake, and even harder to cease.
On the rare occasions these bonds, these binding chains, are shaken, even shattered, It can scar a person.
A scarring that will leave them weak, sad and afraid. Afraid to bre
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Beautiful poem