When I was little,
The World was small.
When I was little,
Glitter was scattered Pixie Dust.
When I was little,
Everything was an adventure.
When I was little,
I could fly.
When one day I am old,
I will watch a child think the same.
When one day I am old,
I will laughingly remember when the moon was cheese.
When one day I am old,
I will read these words to a child the age I am now.
And at this moment,
I will write these words,
As memories flow back.
Glass Sphere - Boundaries of a Dream by Morichi, literature
Literature
Glass Sphere - Boundaries of a Dream
"A melody without words,
Travels through the stilled winds.
Resounding like the chime of bells,
It carries on through an ephemeral glass sphere.
The misted frames light no more,
After shattering in shards.
Throughout the silence of the night,
Came only the clattering of scattering glass.
For the glass sphere's confines that held all,
Were the boundaries of a dream."
Personification of a Phoenix Tree by Morichi, literature
Literature
Personification of a Phoenix Tree
The dawn is stretching,
Overhead.
It lights in a waking yawn.
Ever silent,
Ever there.
Harboring the stretching arch,
At which I stare.
The motionless wings that spread so far,
Open as if to catch the wind.
Like that of a bird,
It raises wings of wood.
The reddened blossoms are alight,
With the colors of the dawn.
The fire of its falling blooms,
Blazing in the morning sky.
To sway with passing winds.
In the comfort of the calm house, came the silent yawn of a cat. From the little box that had been fashioned into a bed for her, a tortoiseshell cat padded out.
Her steps were burdened a little by the pains in her back half. She was an old cat, fourteen now. With a light stretch, she paused with an anxious glance around her. Sure that the path was clear, she slowly made her way to the bed in the right of the room.
Her paws touched the rim of the frame. However, arms reached down and hoisted her up gently. A little mew of protest was given, but the auburn-haired teen had already placed her on the bed. Reaching over, the girl petted the tor
Breeze wandered casually down to the river. She clutched a little pink flower in her mouth. Stopping, she nudged the flower's stem into the sage green scarf she wore. Freed from carrying it, she licked some grass from her lavender pelt and tossed her head up to push the sky blue tuft of fur at forehead from her eyes.
Padding onward, she had a skip in her step. She was off to see her sister, after having left in search of a new, suitable place to live. Their mother had decided to move them from their current home. The three would set out in the morning. Near this river, laid their old home. Their mother had already gone back to their den.
The leaves all fall away,
Cast aside and withered to crispy shells.
The wind breathes,
In cold wisps.
In the time of night,
Darkness stretches on.
Figures and illusions,
Cast their forms and then vanish.
Locked away,
A girl shivers amongst the countless tombs.
Unable to escape for all is locked,
She shivers and hides.
Those forms,
They flicker in and out.
All speak their own words,
Linger in their Unknown World.
A hand brushes against her face,
And the girl is met with a startling sight.
A woman murdered long ago,
Is still covered in blood.
Shrieking with terror,
The girl backs away.
Disturbed by such noise,
Angry eyes
Do you hear the voices,
Disembodied whispers?
With the coming of the night,
Those whispers become loud.
To and fro,
Invisible forms pass my own.
To whom do they whisper,
Is it to me?
Unable to see anything,
How can I discover the meaning of those words?
I feel the cold of someone's breath,
Just beside my form.
In fear I whirl to face them,
Only to be met with a chilling wind.
Was it only my imagination,
Or was something really there?
What filled the night's emptiness,
Were whispers from beyond.
I could see nothing,
But I couldn't turn away.
Transfixed,
I couldn't run.
They circled round and round.
Those voices were soft
When I was little,
The World was small.
When I was little,
Glitter was scattered Pixie Dust.
When I was little,
Everything was an adventure.
When I was little,
I could fly.
When one day I am old,
I will watch a child think the same.
When one day I am old,
I will laughingly remember when the moon was cheese.
When one day I am old,
I will read these words to a child the age I am now.
And at this moment,
I will write these words,
As memories flow back.
Glass Sphere - Boundaries of a Dream by Morichi, literature
Literature
Glass Sphere - Boundaries of a Dream
"A melody without words,
Travels through the stilled winds.
Resounding like the chime of bells,
It carries on through an ephemeral glass sphere.
The misted frames light no more,
After shattering in shards.
Throughout the silence of the night,
Came only the clattering of scattering glass.
For the glass sphere's confines that held all,
Were the boundaries of a dream."
Personification of a Phoenix Tree by Morichi, literature
Literature
Personification of a Phoenix Tree
The dawn is stretching,
Overhead.
It lights in a waking yawn.
Ever silent,
Ever there.
Harboring the stretching arch,
At which I stare.
The motionless wings that spread so far,
Open as if to catch the wind.
Like that of a bird,
It raises wings of wood.
The reddened blossoms are alight,
With the colors of the dawn.
The fire of its falling blooms,
Blazing in the morning sky.
To sway with passing winds.
In the comfort of the calm house, came the silent yawn of a cat. From the little box that had been fashioned into a bed for her, a tortoiseshell cat padded out.
Her steps were burdened a little by the pains in her back half. She was an old cat, fourteen now. With a light stretch, she paused with an anxious glance around her. Sure that the path was clear, she slowly made her way to the bed in the right of the room.
Her paws touched the rim of the frame. However, arms reached down and hoisted her up gently. A little mew of protest was given, but the auburn-haired teen had already placed her on the bed. Reaching over, the girl petted the tor
Breeze wandered casually down to the river. She clutched a little pink flower in her mouth. Stopping, she nudged the flower's stem into the sage green scarf she wore. Freed from carrying it, she licked some grass from her lavender pelt and tossed her head up to push the sky blue tuft of fur at forehead from her eyes.
Padding onward, she had a skip in her step. She was off to see her sister, after having left in search of a new, suitable place to live. Their mother had decided to move them from their current home. The three would set out in the morning. Near this river, laid their old home. Their mother had already gone back to their den.
The leaves all fall away,
Cast aside and withered to crispy shells.
The wind breathes,
In cold wisps.
In the time of night,
Darkness stretches on.
Figures and illusions,
Cast their forms and then vanish.
Locked away,
A girl shivers amongst the countless tombs.
Unable to escape for all is locked,
She shivers and hides.
Those forms,
They flicker in and out.
All speak their own words,
Linger in their Unknown World.
A hand brushes against her face,
And the girl is met with a startling sight.
A woman murdered long ago,
Is still covered in blood.
Shrieking with terror,
The girl backs away.
Disturbed by such noise,
Angry eyes
Do you hear the voices,
Disembodied whispers?
With the coming of the night,
Those whispers become loud.
To and fro,
Invisible forms pass my own.
To whom do they whisper,
Is it to me?
Unable to see anything,
How can I discover the meaning of those words?
I feel the cold of someone's breath,
Just beside my form.
In fear I whirl to face them,
Only to be met with a chilling wind.
Was it only my imagination,
Or was something really there?
What filled the night's emptiness,
Were whispers from beyond.
I could see nothing,
But I couldn't turn away.
Transfixed,
I couldn't run.
They circled round and round.
Those voices were soft
Through mist, through my eyes, I see I am blind
my soul hath no knowledge, heart hath no sight
through my ears the wind blows, cold as the night
deafening me to the sounds of my mind
The sun, his face shining, mocks me with light
his bright severe finger pointing at me
illuminates things I can't bear to see
nowhere to hide, I am faced with my plight
But rain falls, empathic, drowning my cry
her icy chill numbs me so I cannot
feel memories of a heart so distraught
thus consoling me with tears from the sky
And if the rain cannot drown my sorrow
She will cry with me until the morrow
Copyright 2010 Julia Rain Jeys Wellman. All Right
In the comfort of the calm house, came the silent yawn of a cat. From the little box that had been fashioned into a bed for her, a tortoiseshell cat padded out.
Her steps were burdened a little by the pains in her back half. She was an old cat, fourteen now. With a light stretch, she paused with an anxious glance around her. Sure that the path was clear, she slowly made her way to the bed in the right of the room.
Her paws touched the rim of the frame. However, arms reached down and hoisted her up gently. A little mew of protest was given, but the auburn-haired teen had already placed her on the bed. Reaching over, the girl petted the tor
Okay, I've decided that I am going to move Accounts.
The reason for this is that I've really got a lot of Artwork I'm no longer happy with on this account. I was going through an 'Angst' and 'Violence is Cool' phase for quite awhile and my Artwork is flooded with it. Honestly, I don't want to simply remove it all and some people have liked these pieces and favorited them.
So, this Account will be left open but I will only be actively adding new work and logging on under the Account. Once it has been created, I will add the name of this Account.
My new Account:
- ~DaisyHart (https://www.deviantart.com/daisyhart)
Go check it out! --> ~DaisyHart (https://www.deviantart.com/daisyhart)
Update: The file now has an icon,
Many thanks to :IconIce-Glade: for making it. :D
Hm, it's really interesting how much I've changed since last year. Looking back on my older work, it looks like I let small things bother me far too heavily and also that I vented a lot more. It seems that recently, my work has had a lot more cheerfulness and vividness. I also did seem to change my writing style again.
On a second note, I may make a new DeviantArt file for my Animal OCs and the Warriors RPs I've joined. I think I'll wait a little longer to decide if I want to do that though. While I do believe I'll be making a lot more Lineart Colorings, Short Scenes, and DappledLeaf's past, I'm just not sure if I'd hit a dead point after aw