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Happiness The way I look at it; love, romance and Prince Charming do not necessarily make for a happy ending any more than winning a race or a competition does. What makes a happy ending is something a little less talked about than love: Freedom. The freedom to be who you are without apology and without shame. I do not mean freedom from pain or discomfort or exhaustive trials, of course not. Part of happiness is the knowledge of pain. The freedom I speak of is the freedom to explore the boundaries and possibilities of who you are, of your whole being without judgment and condemnation, without being shunned by those you love.

Bliss and happine

The Celestial FellowshipI shone my torch up high,
a silver streak across the
midnight sky.
Pretending that somehow, I,
with my feeble manmade light,
in their distant, twinkling eyes,
was a brand new star,
a sister-in-arms.

Within The Maryshoka Doll SymphonyI hear the refrain...
Similar refrains. Playing in a myriad
of variations on an endless cycle.
Overlapping and intertwining,
A syncopation of voice and soul...
Coming together and bracing against
the winds and waves.
I believe in love, and its boundless
undying energies.
I will find you again. We will find each
other.
And mortal chains and dictates will have
no sway over our embrace and the kisses
we share.
In another world, another life... I will
be waiting for you there.

Help me with the title pls...?As I go to sleep,
In the midst of cold dawn
and weeping sky.
I throw my head back,
into the fire,
into the fury,
back to the place where I
was born.

In a rip of sound,
I run to meet the past
Naked as the day before
I could see.
Before I became.
Before I could call
my name my own.

I go back to sleep,
To dream of that place,
To ruin the curtains of
confinement
and the velvet wall of fear.
I meet the heady rush
of cathartic pain.
And my tears bite into my pride
like a metal ring.

But I am mortal.
I am not sorry.
I will not apologise as I
scream into the echoes
of silence.
I fight the lull of apathy
and fingers spasming,
I grab at the broken d

The Blossoming RoseOf the blossoming rose
that blooms despite the winter chill
and wintry night.
In the cascades of falling grays
and blacks, overlapping shadows
casting heavy smiles upon the
summer sun.
In its dignified sweetness of epic
grace and courageous poise.
The blossoming rose
permeates the tumbling
autumn air.
And in the open glade of the
hopeful soul,
A gentle awakening unto the
porcelain light.
And inheritance bequeathed,
the blossoming rose comes
into its glory,
bursting into CinemaScope.

Overture Into CodaWith sandalwood undertone,
Dried rose and juniper leaves,
they linger on, wafting, whispering,
The scent of days long gone.

Behind laughter and clapping hands,
A keening trill.
The scratch of wood and the smear of ink,
echoing in punctuated memory,
the sigh of what has been.

Madly spinning,
Madly crying,
Madly laughing.
Plans upon plans
on secret handshakes and special places.
Jack and Jill went up the hi;;
We lived to live the next day though.
Never wondering.
Never stopping.
Never pondering.

Magic and lipstick,
songs and high heels
The band played as we stepped upon the stage.
A fluidity of motion,
we wiled the time away.

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Submitted: March 15, 2011
Image Size: 222 KB
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Camera Data

Make:Nokia
Model:N97
Shutter Speed:1/20 second
Aperture:F/2.8
Focal Length:5 mm
ISO Speed:348
Date Taken:Mar 13, 2011, 12:45:40 AM

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Wolfram Von Bielefeltby ~AMMEX

Fan Art / Manga & Anime / Traditional / Other

Ahhhh... So happy.

Drew this during Economics class. I'm so happy coz this is the first time I was able to draw him successfully without a copy. I exaggerated his eyelashes coz back when it was still in pencil it gave him a deliciously evil look but sigh... it disappeared when I inked it.