When the days feel cold and hollow,
And everything seems wrong,
When your soul feels empty and low,
I will be right by your side.
When your face is wet with teardrops
Of laughter or of grief,
When it feels like everything stops,
I will be right by your side.
Close your eyes and dry your tears.
Don't you be afraid; I'll always be near.
You mean so much more to me than you think.
And I'll never leave you alone;
Just whisper my name, and I'll be by your side.
When clouds of doubts surround you
And the pain's too much to bear,
When heaviness weighs down at you,
I will be right by your side.
When you don't know what to believe,
What's true an
Not a sound; not the faintest
Noise hangs in the air tonight.
Not a whisper of wind in the light
Of the moon.
Not a breath; not a gentle
Rustling of leaves in the dark.
Not a song in the silence so stark.
Not tonight.
Not tonight.
I just want to enjoy the peace,
And the soothing still of this solitude;
To listen to silence, to savour the soundless
Solace of the night.
I have had enough burdens
Cast on my shoulders to bear;
I have no empty time left to spare
For this calm.
I just want one more moment
Staying alone, left to breathe
In freedom, to sit out beneath
Moonlit trees -
'Neath the trees.
I just want to enjoy the peace,
And the soot
Cobwebs hang from the ceiling spotted
Moldy stains on the wall that's dotted
Scents of desolation allotted
No-one lives here any more.
Little doll sits against the doorframe
Broken windows survive without shame
Tiny spiders scatter in their game
Why did none come here before?
Come, empty house, open your gates
Let me within your peeling walls
I'll show you what liveliness awaits
That I can bring to you.
Sweep ancient cobwebs, wipe the mire
Ignite your hearth with blazing fire
Make you the grandest in the shire
Let me in; I shall heal you.
Change your decaying things for new ones
Bring back the sprightly charm which had once
Filled your r
In a crowded London street,
People walk by briskly, swiftly on.
Sprays of raindrops melt the clouds,
Dripping down abundantly, quickly on.
But through a window-crack beyond,
Gentle notes drift through the air, lightly on.
Slicing through the solitude,
Whispering solace in my ears, softly on.
Oh, violinist, play your music, haunt my mind,
Break these chains of lonely silence.
Sweep me with your melodies,
Let me soar in skies of anthems;
Violinist, play your song for me.
Footsteps near the window-pane,
Now he plays staccato, brightly on.
Lilting, tremulous, and clear,
Now he plays legato, smoothly on.
Oh, violinist, play your m
What are you?
Are you my friend, or
A mythological figure?
A human being, or
A marble statue?
A concept?
An idea embodied?
Or a mere mortal all the same?
You speak of things I barely understand;
Things I don't believe in,
Things I have no faith in.
And yet
I can never pry my eyes away,
Or try to unhear the words you said.
The things you say may be abstract -
Faraway, ethereal visions I cannot grasp -
And yet the blazing spirit within your soul
I regard with admiration.
I wish, I hope, I long for it;
To have it, to feel it,
To be like you.
And yet I fear I fall short
From the bar you've set for me.
When the days feel cold and hollow,
And everything seems wrong,
When your soul feels empty and low,
I will be right by your side.
When your face is wet with teardrops
Of laughter or of grief,
When it feels like everything stops,
I will be right by your side.
Close your eyes and dry your tears.
Don't you be afraid; I'll always be near.
You mean so much more to me than you think.
And I'll never leave you alone;
Just whisper my name, and I'll be by your side.
When clouds of doubts surround you
And the pain's too much to bear,
When heaviness weighs down at you,
I will be right by your side.
When you don't know what to believe,
What's true an
Not a sound; not the faintest
Noise hangs in the air tonight.
Not a whisper of wind in the light
Of the moon.
Not a breath; not a gentle
Rustling of leaves in the dark.
Not a song in the silence so stark.
Not tonight.
Not tonight.
I just want to enjoy the peace,
And the soothing still of this solitude;
To listen to silence, to savour the soundless
Solace of the night.
I have had enough burdens
Cast on my shoulders to bear;
I have no empty time left to spare
For this calm.
I just want one more moment
Staying alone, left to breathe
In freedom, to sit out beneath
Moonlit trees -
'Neath the trees.
I just want to enjoy the peace,
And the soot
Cobwebs hang from the ceiling spotted
Moldy stains on the wall that's dotted
Scents of desolation allotted
No-one lives here any more.
Little doll sits against the doorframe
Broken windows survive without shame
Tiny spiders scatter in their game
Why did none come here before?
Come, empty house, open your gates
Let me within your peeling walls
I'll show you what liveliness awaits
That I can bring to you.
Sweep ancient cobwebs, wipe the mire
Ignite your hearth with blazing fire
Make you the grandest in the shire
Let me in; I shall heal you.
Change your decaying things for new ones
Bring back the sprightly charm which had once
Filled your r
In a crowded London street,
People walk by briskly, swiftly on.
Sprays of raindrops melt the clouds,
Dripping down abundantly, quickly on.
But through a window-crack beyond,
Gentle notes drift through the air, lightly on.
Slicing through the solitude,
Whispering solace in my ears, softly on.
Oh, violinist, play your music, haunt my mind,
Break these chains of lonely silence.
Sweep me with your melodies,
Let me soar in skies of anthems;
Violinist, play your song for me.
Footsteps near the window-pane,
Now he plays staccato, brightly on.
Lilting, tremulous, and clear,
Now he plays legato, smoothly on.
Oh, violinist, play your m
What are you?
Are you my friend, or
A mythological figure?
A human being, or
A marble statue?
A concept?
An idea embodied?
Or a mere mortal all the same?
You speak of things I barely understand;
Things I don't believe in,
Things I have no faith in.
And yet
I can never pry my eyes away,
Or try to unhear the words you said.
The things you say may be abstract -
Faraway, ethereal visions I cannot grasp -
And yet the blazing spirit within your soul
I regard with admiration.
I wish, I hope, I long for it;
To have it, to feel it,
To be like you.
And yet I fear I fall short
From the bar you've set for me.
The Revolutionist, XVI: Two Roads by LikeAnEagle, literature
Literature
The Revolutionist, XVI: Two Roads
At the night of 4 June 22AN, the police received a call for help from the Seminary for Troubled Young Ladies, claiming that a riot had ensued inside the institution. Upon arriving, a group of inmates rushed out from the front doors, raced across the sizeable lawn towards the gate, and let them in. These girls confessed that the call for help had been theirs, and that the riot was non-existent; they had called for the police so that they could report the severe maltreatment they were exacted within the Seminary by their benefactress and matron, Madame Ruth Gerard.
Mme Gerard, for her part, was intercepted while trying to give chase to the f
The Revolutionist, XIV: Expectations by LikeAnEagle, literature
Literature
The Revolutionist, XIV: Expectations
Coralie Harte is dead.
This morning, after we had eaten breakfast, we gathered in our dormitory again to go through our plans one last time. I had only read a few sentences when she stood up, coughing, choking. Her hand seized at her throat, her eyes were bulging, and she choked on, and on, and on and we couldn't do anything. Her whole body shook, convulsed, and then she just simply dropped. Dead. Her face was purplish, twisted in its final grimace. Nightmarish. A glass she was holding, from which she had been drinking, rolled on the floor; nobody dared touch it, even until now.
We've placed her at her bed. Jama, Milly, and I
The Revolutionist, XIV: Questioning by LikeAnEagle, literature
Literature
The Revolutionist, XIV: Questioning
"Have you lost your head?"
Margot Carey had a face like a porcelain doll: round, white, with rosy cheeks and a small nose. Presently she was staring at me with her blue eyes opened wide and her mouth agape. The words which had just escaped her mouth amused me more than bothered me, but Coralie could not resist the temptation:
"Oh, it's right there over her shoulders, all right," she laughed.
Margot shrunk slightly at the retort, but continued: "I mean, there has to be a better way "
"There isn't," Jama Bahar cut in curtly. "If there was, why do you think she'd plan something this crazy? For the fun of it?"
Margot stammered f
Lone light shines in a
world where the sky has
turned its streets and trees grey.
Before, I painted the
trees green and the houses all colours,
but they dripped and faded
and I had to try again.
But this lone light
sailed into view not as
a bursting supernova, but quietly.
You speak of a Cause, of
something to believe in.
Live for. Fight for.
And there is colour
red and welcome. And I
look on, near lost
for words. How could I know
that in the grey
some small, clear light did glow?
This reads like
abstract nonsense, when in truth
it is a letter of thanks.
For though I have no light
to shine, I stand in your glow
and it
First - there's white...
smooth, white skin. Well, not white
but the mind sees what it wants to see.
You were moon-white and blank;
a canvas - for them and for me.
You had dark hair. Your eyes, too, were darkish.
This was all I knew of you - almost.
But you, hollow-boned, it seemed, and brittle;
tentative - you were anyone's for the taking.
I saved you.
We sat in the dark - I told stories and tried
to get you to tell your own. When you
railed at me and screamed, I persisted. We
had all the time in the world, we did.
You were safe. Safe, and lost, and changing.
Learning.
I knew the price - I made you know it, too.
I am the les
When the days feel cold and hollow,
And everything seems wrong,
When your soul feels empty and low,
I will be right by your side.
When your face is wet with teardrops
Of laughter or of grief,
When it feels like everything stops,
I will be right by your side.
Close your eyes and dry your tears.
Don't you be afraid; I'll always be near.
You mean so much more to me than you think.
And I'll never leave you alone;
Just whisper my name, and I'll be by your side.
When clouds of doubts surround you
And the pain's too much to bear,
When heaviness weighs down at you,
I will be right by your side.
When you don't know what to believe,
What's true an
I would say I am a particularly singular lunatic, but there are always some lunatics about. It would be a dull world without them. Thus I shall amend my self-description: Not only am I a lunatic, but I am also an aspiring musician and artist, and along with that, an omnivorous reader with a strangely retentive memory for trifles.
Favourite Writers
Agatha Christie, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Terry Pratchett, Lewis Carroll, H. G. Wells
I only rarely frequent dA any more, due to being preoccupied with tonnes of other stuff. But I'm missing making journal skins, of all things, so I might show up again a bit.
Also, it feels funny, using one of my old skin creations.
Got this from ~BrightLittleOwl aeons ago, and rediscovered it in my journal log. I've changed.
1: Name:
I still have many names. Even more than before, in fact. But to most people, I'm E (unless you're one of my students, in which case I'm "the Captain". They came up with it themselves).
2: Zodiac sign:
Leo, although I'm untrusting of astrology. You're not likely to hear me roar one of these days, either.
Not changing my old answer.
3: How tall are you?
I don't know. Just about 160 centimetres, maybe?
Ditto.
4: What do you miss?
The good old days, when things were simpler. Not so far away; just the days gone by, still fresh in my me
Just saying that I no longer frequent dA as often as I used to. Not, I presume, that it's a particularly important thing to announce. I shan't be especially missed, at any rate. Things have happened that changed a lot of other things, and while I'm moving on, there are certain other things I just lose touch of, including dA. I just... don't feel as motivated to drop by often as I used to.
Bottom line: I'm all right, just don't expect to see me on dA too frequently. If you seek me, chances are you're one of the people who already know where else to find me, at any rate.
- E