ALONE

leirelatent:
“ Alison Scarpulla
”
ALONE
Alone with my thoughts.
Lost in my dreams.
A deserted forest.
Empty of people.
Devoid of sound.
No movement.
No sunlight.
Only endless trees.
Where my thoughts ring
Loud and clear.

 

leirelatent:

Alison Scarpulla

 

ALONE

Alone with my thoughts.

Lost in my dreams.

A deserted forest.

Empty of people.

Devoid of sound.

No movement.

No sunlight.

Only endless trees.

Where my thoughts ring

loud and clear.

 

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HEAR THE WHISPERS

 

by hdunsirn:Peabody library, baltimore 9.6.14
©hannahdunsirn

 

The peace.

The quiet.

The silence.

The hush of the hallways.

The smell of books.

The taunt of knowledge.

Sit at a table.

Sit by the stacks.

Sit in the corner.

Feel the adventure.

Live the history.

Learn about life.

DUST IN THE WIND

 

I’m alone

Beneath a tree

In a garden.

No sounds

But birds chirping.

The smell of grass

in the warm air.

What is that sound?

The wind rustling the leaves.

Beautiful.

Relaxing.

Perfect.

The sun retreats.

 

Footsteps draw near.

Too dark to see who it is.

It can’t be.

I’m now dust in the wind.

SOLITUDE

SOLITUDE
A rare commodity is solitude.
It can be easily misunderstood.
To be all alone with no one else around.
You can do this in the air or on the ground.
You can sail off in the blue sea,
Or hop on a plane without me.
We can all use some time...

 

SOLITUDE

A rare commodity is solitude.
It can be easily misunderstood.
To be all alone with no one else around.
You can do this in the air or on the ground.
You can sail off in the blue sea,
Or hop on a plane without me.
We can all use some time alone.
Without T.V. or telephone.
Time to think about your goal.
You will come back feeling whole.

 

STAND TALL

BUDS OF HOPE
In midst of despair and sorrow
Rise buds of hope for the morrow.
Still standing upright and strong
Against all that can go wrong.
These are extreme times of confusion and change,
Media expanding over a broader range.
We are attacked by...

 

 

In midst of despair and sorrow
Rise buds of hope for the morrow.
Still standing upright and strong
Against all that can go wrong.

These are extreme times of confusion and change,
Media expanding over a broader range.
We are attacked by sounds from each direction,
Leaving no time for thinking and reflection.

These flowers know what’s real,
They go by what they feel.
Away from the hustle and bustle,
They grow wild without any tussle.

A day to clear my cluttered mind is all I need.
To recharge my battery is what I should heed.
I’ll recharge in a quiet place like this.
A zest for life is what I dearly miss.

 

MIDNIGHT AT THE OASIS

Midnight at the Oasis

e-e-r-i-n-e-s-s:

Nosferatu (1922)

The clock chimes midnight.

Time stands​ still.

The music stops.

Dancers freeze in place.

All is quiet.

The clock chimes twelve times.

The music resumes.

Dancing continues without a hitch.

The Dead have assumed control.

THE DEAD GAME has begun.

A QUIET SPOT

In a quiet spot.
On a soft chair.
In the sun’s spotlight.
I will read a book.
Eyes wide open.
Mind set to explore.
Sunlight streaming in.
I will read a book.
Hands trembling.
Tears falling.
Sun warming my body.
I will read a book.

 

 

 

In a quiet spot.

On a soft chair.

In the sun’s spotlight.

I will read a book.

Eyes wide open.

My mind set to explore.

Sunlight streaming in.

I will read a book.

Hands trembling.

Tears falling.

Sun warming my body.

I will read a book.

 

 

PARADISE

Shadows in the dark-2

 

There’s paradise in Oasis, Florida.
Sun-drenched beaches by day,
Moonlight beaches by night,
A paradise to be shared by all.
Come and enjoy the sleepy nights.
The cooling sea breezes that
Bring mysterious shadows.
Dark shadows that walk
The deserted streets of the town.
All is quiet.
All is dark.
Except for the footsteps.
“Who goes there?”
We ask behind our closed shutters.
No one answers.
Only footsteps.
Who will be alive come morning?


THE DEAD GAME

DEAFENING SILENCE

Desolate.
Alone.
Stark.
Cold.
Empty.
Sitting on a hill.
No houses nearby.
Only the comfort
of a bare tree.
The wind rattles
through my open beams.
Snow drifts in from my roof.
No peace.
Only cold.
And deafening silence.
Will it always be so?
Will the sun shine ever again?
Will horses return to my stables?
I could only wait and hope.

FOOTSTEPS

leirelatent
“Institute Benjamenta” (1995)

 
Has he come for me?

I hear his footsteps.

The leaves stop rustling.

The wind stops blowing.

The silence is overpowering.

A stranglehold on my nerves.

Is he standing outside the door?

Waiting for me to open it.

I won’t.

I won’t let him in.

He wants me.

I refuse to become one of them.

THE DEAD GAME

http://myBook.to/TheDeadGame

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj