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RebornFrozen in this current mind
Bloodied from the hate I hide
Some may say Ive lost my mind
Who knows what else there is to find
As the bristly leaves fall upon my cheek
Drowning in this amber pile
Feeling paralyzed and weak
Why its taken so long a while
Presence of your stone cold eyes
I always had to run and hide
Lips pour out careless lies
My patience oh why I should abide
Dirtied by the soil within
Venom seeping through these veins
Living with such unwanted sin
Obliterate this broken mind of pain
Fly away, distant, far and gone
Leaving my damaged past
Disintegrating the numbness Ive felt for too long
For awhile I thought Id never last
Swimming in this vacant sea
Deserted, abandoned, desolate
Warmth overcomes my body, clear and free
Oh how I lived among regret
This empathy now has taken over me
Distant from the cold thats placed me in this never-ending solitude
I am free, reborn
Built up from a fresh seed, sprouting and renewed
No longer beaten, subdued or
Dance Puppets, DanceI see them rely on the very substance that makes them believe their hell is existant no more. Smoke smothering their drums full of emotion screaming for an outlet. Escape from life, running away from their very reality that life is worth not a point but just an everlasting show while the puppet strings drag them along the dusty stage. Bitter laughter, ignorant eyes. Dance puppets... dance
Let the Sparrows InI.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
with its branching hallways
furniture rooted to the floor
family, friends, the occasional
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
Let the door's
loosen—let the door stand ajar
be let open
the night owls and
let the doves
in pairs in the iridescent
Let the sparrows in.
Framed on either side
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More