My save haven.

Ravens and Doves are welcome.

The poetry & prose say it all. My own personal renaissance.

A time of development.

An enlightenment of age.

Focus
Dot
Anchors deep in the pits of hell
Pupils grow and swallow me whole
Stroke my skin
Deep within,
Water pours from my heart as the camera rolls

And the way the waves slam from shore to shore
You won’t notice my passion until I am graceful, no more

When I’ve slain your heart like the beasts of lore
Leave you writhing and quaking in your very core

Focus

Dot

Anchors deep in the pits of hell

Pupils grow and swallow me whole

Stroke my skin

Deep within,

Water pours from my heart as the camera rolls

And the way the waves slam from shore to shore

You won’t notice my passion until I am graceful, no more

When I’ve slain your heart like the beasts of lore

Leave you writhing and quaking in your very core

(via p-i-r-a-d-o)

(Source: thebloodinmyveinsiscold, via alex-c-lee)

— T.S. Eliot (via cassoday)

(Source: peterthewebslingerparker, via s-omniphobic)


The submersion of the age in filter
The light dancing against your bare flesh
The hollow prances, leaving your shorts akilter
Its impressive movements across your mesh
Flicker and bummer
Whistle and hummer 
Berries breaking, yummer
The trees sigh in the decaying winds
The thistles become thin
The leaves falling, to the concrete, whispers of chagrin
So long to the greens and blues
We welcome the colder hues
Of a harsher rue than the rouge of summer
And ask, “What’s left to do?”

The submersion of the age in filter

The light dancing against your bare flesh

The hollow prances, leaving your shorts akilter

Its impressive movements across your mesh

Flicker and bummer

Whistle and hummer 

Berries breaking, yummer

The trees sigh in the decaying winds

The thistles become thin

The leaves falling, to the concrete, whispers of chagrin

So long to the greens and blues

We welcome the colder hues

Of a harsher rue than the rouge of summer

And ask, “What’s left to do?”

(Source: joanpalargemi, via landonfromlondon)

enoqi:

Gently, gently falling down... ☂

enoqi:

Gently, gently falling down... 

(via mydeadpony)

(Source: stereocolours, via landonfromlondon)

Take the teeth from the beast
So it won’t bite the hand that feeds
Leave it alone, let it feast,
and the ancients will decide what it needs…
If you can bear it

Take the teeth from the beast

So it won’t bite the hand that feeds

Leave it alone, let it feast,

and the ancients will decide what it needs…

If you can bear it

(via p-i-r-a-d-o)

fuckyeahpaganism:

Pop tea lights on your coffee warmer, leaving the wicks in & sprinkle herbs in them. (x)

fuckyeahpaganism:

Pop tea lights on your coffee warmer, leaving the wicks in & sprinkle herbs in them. (x)

(Source: simply-divine-creation, via a-messysoul-and-recklessmind)

In shimmering skin and glistening eyesWe reach for each other in the nightWelcoming the sun’s gentle repriseThe moonlight tickled your skin and your sunlit pinks and yellows were hidden
In the feint glow of fright,we danced deep into the night…
And I fell into your grasp, as you held me tight…

In shimmering skin and glistening eyes
We reach for each other in the night
Welcoming the sun’s gentle reprise

The moonlight tickled your skin
and your sunlit pinks and yellows were hidden

In the feint glow of fright,
we danced deep into the night…

And I fell into your grasp, as you held me tight…

(Source: tiit, via reinfected)