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Literature Text
nighttime
i should be in bed
i am exhausted
i could drop dead
i know i should
but i just can't stop
the things chasing
around in my head.
nothing is safe
the bed is a grave
i do some venting
instead.
i should be in bed
i am exhausted
i could drop dead
i know i should
but i just can't stop
the things chasing
around in my head.
nothing is safe
the bed is a grave
i do some venting
instead.
Literature
ovdje negdje
cisto rijeci nisu dovoljne
za opisati sve onakvim kakvo je
izaci iz najdubljeg mraka
gledati svijet tvojim ocima
vidjeti rađanje dana
u jedanaestom mjesecu bez kaputa
biti kraj gusjenice
kad se pretvara u leptira
vidjeti tisinu u ocima stranca
u trenutku najveceg nemira
ili biti usred cijelog postojanja
jedan macak, i ja
words alone are not enough
to describe everything the way it is
to leave the deepest darkness
to see the world through your eyes
to witness the birth of a day
in november without a coat
to be by the caterpillar
when it turns into a butterfly
to see the silence in stranger's eyes
when you are at your worst
or t
Literature
Passing Storm
Tainted aura swells in sky
While a bitter breeze howls,
Caressing temper of the night
And rage of winter's rise.
Frenzied chills sweep the land
Icy fingers drumming
Pounding through the earth.
Swift, the creatures cower
Burrowing deep
Away from the careless reign
Of rain.
Bellows of the storm demand
With fall of icy drops,
That all willows sway and dance
And welcome Winter with bare branches.
Craters dotting weathered earth
Hollowed by the thrumming rain.
Clouds retreat in newborn lull
And clear to open sky.
Grey and weak, the storm submits
With whistling windy sigh.
Quiet pattering, gentle
Slowing with each drop,
Until
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Playing in the Clouds by DavidMCoyle
Photography / Animals, Plants & Nature / Weather and Sky©2011-2015 DavidMCoyle
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'can't'?