

The Great Masque: Acclimation "Where? Where am I?" came her voice, hesitant and hollow. The confused tone echoed lightly, a sound delayed and distant. "You are where you belong, my dear. Where you want to belong," came the reply, even more distant than her own echo. And then her eyes fluttered open, the curtain of her exaggerated lashes parting to give way to the blindness that clung still to her vision. It took but a moment before all washed red before her, and she felt herself reeling, tumbling through emptiness and then through liquid and emptiness again until once more solidness met her feet, and she foThe Great Masque: Acclimation


Pattern of OneWhen sometimes the faded mural turns to reflection Eyeing idle days of random perfection I have become that which I warned aboutPattern of One
Where am I? Lost
It’s a semblance of memory when dreams will revive How can this part of me live to survive I want to be remembered after I fade
What do I need? Time
Bound and fettered, paralyzed by a paradox of twins There can be no glory to which side of me wins I am the destruction that I have feared
Who will save me? &


Choice Deep in the Silent Forest, a small writing desk sits, alone in a glen. Is it abandoned? Is it forgotten? No... the gentle shower of tears lay scattered and untouched on its cherry wood surface. Tattered papers wither in the sun. And in the distance, on the gentle soothing breezes, soft sweet sobbing can be heard by listening ears. The writer, the owner of the little writing desk. Where has she gone? Why does she weep? One can only find the answer if she can be found... If she will allow herself to be found...Choice
At your feet, scarlet petals wind its way down the middle of the glen. A solemn dance
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The one with more pictures in it... landscapey ones ~Trizzles1
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~Artemia~
Visit my stock account: [link]
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... Like an angel fallen. Longing for Heaven, bound to Earth...
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~Artemia~
Visit my stock account: [link]
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