- Jun 10, 2016
Her hands slowly chipped away at the ice,
The cold exterior surface would soon crack.
She hoped to resist suffering frostbite,
Until his numb and frigid heart melted.
- Sir Adam Atriy, Myriad Tiaras Vol. V
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The Refuse
one who has no door cannot keep it open
- May 18, 2016
Born together to the same mother,
Yet they differ in soul and sentiment.
One child of hope is named joy,
The other we know as sorrow.
- Sir Adam Atriy, Myriad Tiaras Vol. V
- Aug 10, 2015
the ashes of a time long lost rise within me, fill themselves in me, trap me in their embrace, choke me, encircle me in a tornado of burned-out feelings. the vestiges of a moment far outlived make me cry, make me laugh, and attempt to steal what fire I have. the relics of an age now extinct push against me and I ache with fear, with panic although I don't know why. the remnants of an instant threaten to use me up, to burn me out, to suffocate me, until the feeling is -gone- and I feel lost without it.
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