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Literature Text
When the lights are out,
And the night is cold,
I can't help but imagine,
It's your hand I hold.
Through the storm,
Blowing in my mind,
My center focus,
Is your blue eyes.
I torment myself,
With an answer-less question.
On my darkest of days,
It is to your voice I listen.
It keeps me strong,
It keeps me stable.
Somehow you have proved,
That I am able,
To smile and Laugh,
As love warms my heart.
Wishing us together,
Right from the start.
But as your image slowly fades,
Alone in the dark, brokenhearted I lay.
Often reality is too cruel,
To give me a chance to be with you.
More questions haunt my weary mind,
Eating up all of my time.
What if I can't pull through,
This lonely night without you?
And the night is cold,
I can't help but imagine,
It's your hand I hold.
Through the storm,
Blowing in my mind,
My center focus,
Is your blue eyes.
I torment myself,
With an answer-less question.
On my darkest of days,
It is to your voice I listen.
It keeps me strong,
It keeps me stable.
Somehow you have proved,
That I am able,
To smile and Laugh,
As love warms my heart.
Wishing us together,
Right from the start.
But as your image slowly fades,
Alone in the dark, brokenhearted I lay.
Often reality is too cruel,
To give me a chance to be with you.
More questions haunt my weary mind,
Eating up all of my time.
What if I can't pull through,
This lonely night without you?
Literature
Threads of Parting
Threads of Parting
Crooked lines and rocky roads align my feet
The cruel threads of parting into the hunger of the night.
Like a wind that caresses my naked flesh under the clinching sunlight
Leaking the beauty of the stars, grasping but unmoving.
Drowning under the currents of a calm clearing, the soul of one leaving behind.
The rain... the only burden so ever sweet.
Whispers of broken mortals leak and disappear
The eternal hope, the pure life in the obscurity...
Where lingers the cruel thread of parting
The burnt of passion and hate unfolds
Under the beauty of immunity, I long your vitality
The object that I fear, the spirit I b
Literature
Tom Hiddleston x Reader - The Bench In The Park
"Autumn is a second spring, when every leaf is a flower." -Albert Camus
You had a free day off work, so you decided to go for a walk in the park. It was a beautiful fall day and you wanted to enjoy it.
You wore warm black tights with a cute blue skirt and a (f/c) shirt. You slip your long brown boots on, your (f/c) jacket, a scarf and headed outside.
The air was cool and you took a deep breath.
You didn't lived far from the park so you went by foot.
The leaves fell silently on the ground, making a beautiful red-yellow-orange colored carpet on the streets.
With your head in the clouds you walked past the little coffee shop you often went to.
Suggested Collections
Another LONG one. Just something I came up with in creative writing class, not sure where from. Clearly although I cannot write a story to save my life poetry randomly comes to me. But of course >_< ah well!
Hope you enjoy!!! Let me know what you think!! (ive been trying to write some lighter stuff lately)
Hope you enjoy!!! Let me know what you think!! (ive been trying to write some lighter stuff lately)
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Comments7
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Aaaaaaaaw the last line is great <3