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Literature Text
The fire's dying down,
Another weary day,
These tears thy bridal gown
If you were to go away.
Please leave not this shore
To know me nevermore.
The waves distant call thee
And shadows now befall me.
Little flower that bloomed
O'er the siren entombed,
I will sail to this land,
With the petals in hand
An offering to thee, the son given
By choirs of the cloudless Heaven
To islands in the blue so deep.
Ah! Darling, surely I shall weep
As the petals shift in the sand,
And the grains within my hand
Are born by silent tides away
To the Kings of Departing Day.
The rain beats on my window
Thy bosom dear my pillow,
There are diamonds in this heartbeat
Fantastic melody of fruits grown sweet.
Another weary day,
These tears thy bridal gown
If you were to go away.
Please leave not this shore
To know me nevermore.
The waves distant call thee
And shadows now befall me.
Little flower that bloomed
O'er the siren entombed,
I will sail to this land,
With the petals in hand
An offering to thee, the son given
By choirs of the cloudless Heaven
To islands in the blue so deep.
Ah! Darling, surely I shall weep
As the petals shift in the sand,
And the grains within my hand
Are born by silent tides away
To the Kings of Departing Day.
The rain beats on my window
Thy bosom dear my pillow,
There are diamonds in this heartbeat
Fantastic melody of fruits grown sweet.
Literature
A China Doll
I’m young, and yet, already, I’m a wife,
A malleable girl who met a man.
He swore that all the problems of my life
Would fade. They did, until the games began.
He promised to protect me. Life is tough.
The world we see is not a pretty place.
But what if I am made of stronger stuff?
No trace of that has flickered in his face.
A china doll, too delicate to break,
He puts me on a pedestal, alone.
I stare at nothing, not allowed to make
My thoughts, my fears, my disapproval, known.
I’m not a toy, a treasure to possess.
Is this the day I find my freedom? Yes.
Literature
First Times
Remember the first time that we kissed? In a theater, watching a movie I no longer remember. Your lips were warm and soft like rose petals, My mouth devouring yours with hunger. For I was lost in the feeling of coming home... To a place I had thought lost long ago. Remember the first time you saw snow? White soft crystals falling from the sky, Melting on your skin like angel kisses. I imagine your face lit with childlike wonder, Staring up with tears of joy in your eyes At each unique crystal made just for you. Remember the first time we saw our son? So big I could not imagine how he fit inside you, Beautiful and pink like a sunset on the ocean. Even then he followed me with his gaze, Staring at a light I could not see inside of me, As if he could look directly into my soul. I treasure these fragile moments we share, Snapshots of a life lived with hope and passion, May we always remember them in our hearts. Speaking without words in a divine tongue, Looking into each other's eyes
Literature
Literary Speakeasy
I’ve lived a thousand worlds within great writer's words I've stumbled through countless realms, not just my own, but those hidden— etched in the whiskey-soaked pages of sages, where Homer's ghost howls, undeterred. I've climbed Himalayan peaks, trudged Thoreau's wild woods, and danced barefoot on time's gritty shores, swaying with Vonnegut and Orwell. Beyond the sky's azure curtain, aboard Melville's cosmic barstool, I charted astral courses through nebulous taverns, finding solace in Asimov's binary banter. To the earth's molten core I descended, Verne's visions swirling like bourbon, and through the kaleidoscope of my mind, I glimpsed Tolkien's eternal pub crawl. The great thinkers—Aristotle, Plato— their wisdom served neat, no chaser, and the poets, their souls unfiltered, Shakespeare and Rumi, their verses poured. In vino veritas—the truth spills forth, Hemingway's whiskey tango foxtrot, while Poe's raven perches, brooding, a phantom sentinel on my fire escape. Now, let’s
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