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Literature Text
Good evening, Lady of the Snow.
Let me take you by the hand,
lead you out of your palace into this night.
You look at me so tenderly.
This world is grey in gray.
Ice Princess, let's paint it,
let's start a peaceful revolution.
To make this world a better place.
Sing your serenades and
I will paint iceflowers all over the sky.
Changing without bloodspilling,
together with you. Fullfilling my heart's desire.
All sins, all this blood, they are covered in snow.
Forgiving, regretting, not forgetting.
The innocence is calling us all.
Say, didn't we help, Angel?
Let me take you by the hand,
lead you out of your palace into this night.
You look at me so tenderly.
This world is grey in gray.
Ice Princess, let's paint it,
let's start a peaceful revolution.
To make this world a better place.
Sing your serenades and
I will paint iceflowers all over the sky.
Changing without bloodspilling,
together with you. Fullfilling my heart's desire.
All sins, all this blood, they are covered in snow.
Forgiving, regretting, not forgetting.
The innocence is calling us all.
Say, didn't we help, Angel?
Literature
Clouds
When you walk to here and there,
Out in the streets or anywhere,
Look up to the skies in wondrous stare,
The clouds are asking for a thought to spare,
Do you realise now?
How the winds bring change,
And how we dream of better ways?
Go challenge the world you live in,
And broaden the mind you wander in,
Lost in the madness of a cloud,
Lost in a world of your own.
Literature
Angel With the Broken Wings
If she makes it to heaven
She’ll be the angel with the broken wings
Always somehow mourning
For a voice that never sings
If she makes it to heaven
She’ll be the angel with the broken heart
‘Cause everyone she loved
Ripped her dreams apart
Literature
Winter
Her cold hands trace the lands spreading pallor;
In their wake, antique lace of crystal ice-
Scrimshaw tracery of pale frost flowers;
Tears a fickle flurry from fragile skies-
But bitter is her wintered breath the wind,
And ghostly the sound of its satin sighs;
Blue-veined deep the frozen lake of her skin;
Her voice a swansong of icicle lies-
Skeletal spine studded with evergreen-
The sheen of her shimmering white-wove veil
Crowned with holly bush and poinsettia leaf;
Her eyes drowning blue, her skin ghostly pale.
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yo everybody
been a while to post sth good~
i'm quite lazy but since i dont have any tests the next time there'll surely be some more artwork.
first of all thanks in advance~
what can i do to create a better atmossphere?
i am definitely not satisfied, but since i'm not a native speaker, i can't really tell
been a while to post sth good~
i'm quite lazy but since i dont have any tests the next time there'll surely be some more artwork.
first of all thanks in advance~
what can i do to create a better atmossphere?
i am definitely not satisfied, but since i'm not a native speaker, i can't really tell
Comments24
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Firstly, I would like to congratulate you on doing such an excellent job of this poem since you are not a native speaker of English.
I would like to point out that the meter may need some adjusting, the syllabry is slightly awkward and sometime jarring.
If you're unsure what I'm talking about, *Penessence has a wonderful explanation on his website here: [link] most of this website is very useful, so you may want to look at other parts of it as well.
The message portrayed by this poem is not really clear, but it remains beautiful nontheless. I like the way in which snow remains a theme throughout. Although I am unsure about the jarring crash-to-reality effect that the mention of the blood creates, I think that it works somehow, particularly as you are speaking of revolution.
Hopefully nothing I have said here has caused offense. I hope that you realise nothing I have written here was intended in a malicious manner.