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The Glass HouseSlowly, but yet quickly he dances ‘round his endless route with eyes of steel always darting. Dancing round and round in the sunlight you’d swear he never sleeps or blinks. Everywhere his curious eyes takes him there is a shape or color that looks so out of place. Everything is bigger as mirrors in the fun house are at the circus. There seems no end to his translucent dungeon, but yet there is. Looking at reflective skin you wonder how God created such a magnificent material. This one cannot speak, but yet you can see the panic in his eyes. Forlorn is he for something that no one can discover except tThe Glass House


In the Early DuskDewdrops linger on the moist leaves of day as the sun is still buried far beneath the earths skin. All is quiet except the call of a distant bird that greets the early mist each day. The foggy mystery dances on the ground to dampen every bit of Mother Natures rug. Angels hair tangles around all the tree branches while their feet cling to the rough skin of the base. No eyes are yet open to see the early risers that mingle round the gardens and forests to waken all that looks still to the human eye. The waters rush through the rocks as the trees stretch their arms toward the sun that starts to peek. Flowers sIn the Early Dusk


Fight of the HeartFor these rosey cheeks know the simple pleasure of a true loves first kiss. Of the fiery sensation that is exchanged in our eyes as we see that limit which we have crossed. The daring line between normal and extraordinary. Will normal ever be in our vocabulary again as our hands join and we climb that mountain? The deepness in our adjoined souls burn away the old and painful and paints a new curl in our lips. That new curl that simply mouths "I love you." Can even the earth crumble beneath our feet to keep us from this feeling? No, we shall prevail and show that the beat of our hearts is one and we noFight of the Heart


Wings Of HopeWings as the sun show that the new hope has begun. The flighty movement of each delicate arm flits at each movement of your pupils. Every detail on the delicate wings of the tiny bird tells a story of their own. The black ancient eyes show the message given to every seeker. One in a more loving and tresured form now seems to have the freedom of its own. Sunlight dances upon its every move telling that the sun will rise once more on your troubled life. The colored design reigns down as scribbles as the tears did once against your cheek. Trust is its main goal to get to you and all else that needs the dWings Of Hope
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When Atlas held the world on his shoulders did he wonder why he was made to do a woman's job?...did the burden on his back give him effeminate hopes of high heel shoes and short tight skirts? ---My Journal
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~CombichristArmy~NIN-on-DA~Death-Chicks~thedarklings
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thanks alot for the fav!
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