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A shot can come in many forms.

There's tequila and jack,

Mixed and straight

Single and double

But most prefer straight.

Tha kamikazie, and B52,

Or maybe a nice red Vampire,

Or possibly an indulging legspreader.

But remember this all you ladies and gents,

When you can't feel a thing,

That's when you say "fuck the rest"

And bid farewell to your dreams.



Anthony Feller

A rose was born in a faraway land only

To grow and bud into the most beautiful of all.

Thorns of course come natural

But beauty is in the eyes of the holder.

It can be red, black, yellow,

Many different colors.

This rose is dark and has captured my essence

As I pick it up and look closely at it.

This rose is fond looking and the more I look

The more I appreciate it's simple beauty.

Even though I do get pricked by the thorns

I still love to hold it and give it my own type of love.

It's beauty and pleasure is more than I can resist

And it's life is more than precious to me.

This rose I will always love

Even if I sometimes ignore it.

But this love and ignorance just helps it grow

And turn into the beauty I know it is.

COMMENTS

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DarksHeart
18:44 Apr 08 2013

this is as beautiful as the rose:)

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The life of the heart is by no means

grand. It breaks, tears, and gets

stripped of its passion. But that

passion can be rebuilt with the time

of the individual it belongs to. The

passion of the heart can always be

rekindled. It has never been wrong to

forgive and forget, but the hear

must move in in its search for "the one."

A heart, like most other things

can be mended...but only time

and trust can it face again. It never

quits. Always fights. And in the end,

the heart is what rules all. Your

glory, your love, your romance.

Without your heart, you have no

life...and without your life,

the end is always near.

As the moon is up and slowly begins it's journey back down, we rest in a deep slumber where the dreams of all come to play so as to enjoy what has been brought upon them and ignore all realities to bring to their dreamers their fantasies and hopes of life.

Hope is that little thing that keeps coming back, making you think it will all be ok. Then in the next minute it vanishes for another day, week, even months. It builds you up to tear you back down because it is a type of fate...when all possibilities are exhausted, it comes into the light until new ideas are formed by the others to rip you apart again. Hope never dies, it just leaves you when you need it the most. It shall burn in hell one day for its treachery and illusion and then, just maybe, things will work the way they should...like the night. Ever quiet, ever calm, absorbing all feelings up into the stars. It is a life of it's own and in the night...in the darkness...there is no hope because it can't see you, or hear you, in the void that the night brings.

COMMENTS

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licentious
18:46 Dec 13 2011

i can relate to this...

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The fires of hell and the breath of the dragon shall never match the might of the sword and the cold steel of a shield. The pittings of good against evil, life against death, shall always be a battle until the end of the universe. Fight on all should do till the fire melts your sword and shield...only then shall you truly know hell because you will already be standing in the middle of it.