BORN FREE

I will fight.

I will fight the hunters.

I will fight to the death.

I will ride proud and free.

Man will not tame me.

I will not be ridden.

I will remain as free as the wind.

I was born free.

I will die free.

I CRY ALONE IN THE NIGHT

rememberless

I cry alone in the dark of night.

The sun refuses to share the light.

Lit by a fire from within.

Moonlight hits me like a sharp pin.

I grow paler by the day.

In this world, I cannot stay.

Without light, I will die.

My white petals will fly.

I’m left to be a thin stick

As I grow tired and sick. 

THE TEST OF TIME

djferreira224 Deactivated 

THE TEST OF TIME

Sunset in Everglades National Park, Florida

THE TEST OF TIME

We all succumb to it.

It takes its victims.

No one is safe.

We wither.

Dry up.

Turn to dust.

Life goes on.

Until the next victim.

Bites the dust.

And so it goes.

On and on.

It continues.

In waves.

In cycles.

In perpetuity.

No reason to fight it.

Only to accept it.

CHARACTERS

leirelatent:

Books change me.

They influence me.

Make me theirs.

I become their characters.

I live their stories.

DIE

Not so easy to kill The Dead.

A knife through the eye.

Won’t kill them.

A drink of poison.

Won’t kill them.

Let’s add some sunlight.

A sure hot spot for them.

A beheading for dinner.

Will clear the riffraff away.

A witch’s spell could do the trick.

Be careful of your weapon of choice.

The Dead don’t die easily.

THE DEAD GAME

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Source:drain-my-head

DAYS LONG GONE

As I fade away,

I think of days long gone.

As I crumble to sand,

I remember the past.

As I shrivel to nothing,

I regret what I’ve done.

But most of all,

I regret what I haven’t.

THE TEST OF TIME

djferreira224:

Sunset in Everglades National Park, Florida

The test of time.
We all succumb to it.
It takes its victims.
No one is safe.
Wither.
Dry up.
Turn to dust.
And life goes on.
Until the next victims
bite the dust.
And so it goes.
On and on.
In waves.
In cycles.
In perpetuity.
No reason to fight it.
Accept it.

THE FALLEN

ominousraincloud:

Sherbrooke Forest | By Penny Whetton

The tree has been hurt.
Scarred by the storm.
Its leaves have fallen.
Fallen soldiers of war.
Without a proper burial.
Who will mourn them?
The fallen of nature.
The tree will mourn
their loss.
Until new leaves sprout
to take their place.
And the cycle continues.

BORN FREE

I will fight.
I will fight the hunters.
I will fight to the death.
I will ride proud and free.
Man will not tame me.
I will not be ridden.
I will remain free as the wind.
I was born free and I will die free.

LIFE IS SHORT

Life is short.
We are born.
Then we die.
What we do in between
is what’s important.
We determine which way
life swings for us.
Are we good?
Are we bad?
A path we alone can determine.
We keep swinging our chains
until our time is over.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.

HOLD LIFE IN YOUR HANDS

efemerou:

To hold life in your hands.
To have power to end its
existence or let it flourish.
Such power should never
be taken lightly.

SAD?

FEEL SAD?
THE SNOW IS COMING?
STAY INSIDE AND STAY WARM.
CURL UP WITH A GOOD BOOK.

THE CHOICE

AT EVERY MOMENT IN TIME,
THE CHOICE IS BEING MADE
OF WHETHER WE LIVE OR DIE.
WHO IS MAKING THIS CHOICE?