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Flame and FlowerCan a flame not share its warmth with a rose?
Engulf the fragile petals without destroying their beauty?
As the flares lap at the stem, are they immune to the thorns?
Or do they cause the flame more intensity?
Is it possible for the rose to endure, engulfed,
To survive and grace the earth with its presence another day?
Or will a flame only consume to destroy?
Will the rose only be left mangled, wilted, and stripped of itself-
Destined to be embers?
This flame can become a wildfire and level the forests - careless.
But the rose, the flame dares not touch for fear of loss.
Fore even this supple rose to be oblivious to the heat the surrounds it,
is better than the rose to pay it mind, be enraptured, and destroyed.
HopeHope propels us in the air
And causes us to soar.
With your head up in the clouds
Your feet aren't on the floor,
Traction's set to zero, and
You're going nowhere fast.
Holding on to hope alone
Gets you stuck in the past.
While you float, the world goes on
And spins under your feet.
Catch back up after you land
Try not to lose your seat
Get stuck in hope for too long and
You may just find it true
That everything has changed except
The ever-hoping you.
The SmelterThe furnace burns hot
Behind cold and pale walls.
Illumination, though, is black.
For, rather than draw,
The light affronts.
Distance is an enemy,
The requisite evil.
With- bridges burn
and severs separate
Without- claustrophobia closes
Warmth can be inviting,
Yet these flames consume.
To most, they overwhelm,
But only the purest gold
Survives the smelting.
Piece for PeaceMy heart aches today
The pain won't go away
Still I wait for you
And those words I long to hear you say
It can't come soon enough
When I'll see you again
I long for you
And your sweet embrace, my friend
Every hour of every day
You're all that's on my mind
(And) unless I'm with you, baby,
No peace do I find
Here again I find myself
With you stuck on my mind
Waiting to be with you, babe,
And tryin' to stay in line
My heart aches again
This pain is here to stay
There's only one cure:
For you to come steal me away
I've waited so damn long
Just to hear you say
Deep down from your heart
That you feel the same
If that day comes, you say to me
It's absolutely true
My heart will feel such ecstasy,
I don't know what I'll do
Every hour of every day
You're all that's on my mind
It's amazing what serenity
And peace that I'll find
Once again I'll find myself
Dilexit Aeternum-For Betsy-
For when you feel
Alone and hurt,
The burden of life
Is at its worst,
Has got you down
Just lay yourself
Upon the ground
Look to the sky
And think of me
You'll find you're loved
SheSweet as a rose
But not without thorn.
At times, ice cold
But usually warm.
Strong of will,
Sharp of wit
Caring and more.
Honest and genuine
Down to the core.
Desired by many,
Cherished like few.
Precious as ever,
Always a thrill.
The DeterminedThe wind whips hard his red cheeks and cherry nose,
Yet still he presses forward to a place only he knows.
The ones he passes only scoff and scorn.
His progress leaves him beaten, worn.
Foolish attempts is all they see,
Doomed to failure and misery.
But they don't see what's in his eyes:
His goal, his treasure, his keep, his prize.
They bid him stop, continue no more.
He turns a deaf ear and keeps moving forward.
For if he gives in and looks to the side,
He forfeits his journey, meets his demise.
Obstacles mean nothing, but still stand in his way.
A true champion, however, fights day after day.
For heroes aren't made when completion is won,
But rather when challenges are met, overcome.
So, despite the poor weather, lack of support, and threat of defeat,
The Determined endures each hardship he meets.
With eyes looking forward and legs carrying on,
With courage and will, regardless of brawn,
With visions of victory as winds for his sail,
The Determined alone will always prevail.
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More