The snow has fallen
And people hide
behind glass panes of ice.
Shivering, edging close to the fire,
drawn in by the dance of its fiery tails,
they believe to see their wishes unfold
in its black scowling eyes.
They gaze in the flames and dream,
forgetting where their dreams will take place,
their lives trickling away
as the glowing embers turn cold.
Outside,
away from the fire, the craze
and the sweet mulled Glühwein
a cat
alone
roams the streets,
eyes fixed on the light
framed by unhomy windows.
He could go and beg
on the cold doorsteps of flickering hope,
hope that flares up on last time 'fore saying goodbye.
But
I'm not here to blame you,
or to tell you what's right.
That's all the same old song
hanging heavy in the air
clinging to the people's hearts
squeezing out pain and hate
mixing blood and milk cocktails
to the content of the night.
I'm not here to obey you
or to be your contempt's toy
I'm not here to despair
caught in the resin
of the place where feelings go to die
I'm surfeited with what people say
and not do
people condemning people
what people claim to be invulnerable to.
That's all the same old song
hanging heavy in the air
clinging to the people's hearts
squeezing out pain and hate
mixing blood and milk cocktails
to
*** 1 day plus tard ***
And I ask my heart, don't you see,
don't you see
in the Caribbean Blue
where do you hurry to?
For a dream
for the dream of every person
how many times did it come true?
You don't want to know
all that matters is the flower blooming
in your chest. And you feel every petal
as it turns towards the sun.
A wild dance, a dance into the abyss
does it matter where it ends
if it's so magnificent
A dance of a butterfly towards the light of a fire.
The snow has fallen
And people hide
behind glass panes of ice.
Shivering, edging close to the fire,
drawn in by the dance of its fiery tails,
they believe to see their wishes unfold
in its black scowling eyes.
They gaze in the flames and dream,
forgetting where their dreams will take place,
their lives trickling away
as the glowing embers turn cold.
Outside,
away from the fire, the craze
and the sweet mulled Glühwein
a cat
alone
roams the streets,
eyes fixed on the light
framed by unhomy windows.
He could go and beg
on the cold doorsteps of flickering hope,
hope that flares up on last time 'fore saying goodbye.
But
I'm not here to blame you,
or to tell you what's right.
That's all the same old song
hanging heavy in the air
clinging to the people's hearts
squeezing out pain and hate
mixing blood and milk cocktails
to the content of the night.
I'm not here to obey you
or to be your contempt's toy
I'm not here to despair
caught in the resin
of the place where feelings go to die
I'm surfeited with what people say
and not do
people condemning people
what people claim to be invulnerable to.
That's all the same old song
hanging heavy in the air
clinging to the people's hearts
squeezing out pain and hate
mixing blood and milk cocktails
to
*** 1 day plus tard ***
And I ask my heart, don't you see,
don't you see
in the Caribbean Blue
where do you hurry to?
For a dream
for the dream of every person
how many times did it come true?
You don't want to know
all that matters is the flower blooming
in your chest. And you feel every petal
as it turns towards the sun.
A wild dance, a dance into the abyss
does it matter where it ends
if it's so magnificent
A dance of a butterfly towards the light of a fire.
I know your name
Disposable.
I know what you are looking for.
Your needs, your goals and hopes.
I'll grant you all of it and more
Shall you agree to pay the price.
I know your place so know it too.
Don't raise you head
and kindly follow in the track.
Or I will break you
eradicate you
and leave behind
nothing but your fuming ash.
No need for further introductions.
Welcome to the team.
Just give it your best.
Price.
Law.
Hardship.
Dedicated to the Artistic Nude Gallery
with best wishes for a better future
A failed creation
of a new generation.
Out of proportion,
lost all emotion.
Lost all direction,
crying for resurrection.
Pleading, bleeding
for a deeper meaning.
A Guide to Colored Pencils by Kiki-Tayler, journal
A Guide to Colored Pencils
Trad Art Week: Tools of Your Trade
I love colored pencils!
I love the smell, the texture, the wonderful colors that no sCaNnER cAn eVER GET RIGHT---
Hello everyone! I'm Kiki-Tayler, a collector of colored pencils.
In this article I'll be talking about the technique I use when working with colored pencils. I'll cover the topics of colored pencil brands/types, paper quality, auxiliary tools, and the super secret technique. (It's not all that secret, tbh)
Let's dive in and talk about the pencils themselves.
I use a mixture of Prismacolor pencils and Faber Castell pencils.
Prismacolor Pencils
Have a Wax-coreMassive selection of bright colo