'Writers are liars by nature, but just because of that, don't discount us. For it is through our lies that we tell the truth. Our stories become the mask.'

Friday 5 October 2012

Sweet Dwarka...





I have boarded the sailing ship,
a Hop-skip and a Jump away,
at the Edge of that ocean,
that is always in my dreams,
I have gone to the place far east from the west,
Where I have a new name and no tale,
We are children built for stories,
and we have fabricated our world,
Using them as our bricks,
We were made for new seas,
and new mountains and lagoons,
and I have turned my back on everything...
to follow them now,
Glance for me in the 3.30 cool
and the amber shadows, I will dwell...
Peace of heart,
Peace of mind,
If you wish to call me,
 look for the red phone upon the highest hill...
I am in-between worlds now,
and their embrace is cooling,
I have unchained myself,
from the cold hands of time,
and now I lie...in a familiar place,
A home...
Where the streets are pale,
and the city has walls,
the waves' crashing follows you
wherever you go,
and you are reserved a place,
from before you knew you were looking...
and it is a guilded life you have given up,
exchanged for a heart.
 
...7 million palaces of gold,
On sweet Dwarkanoth by the sea,
Make your quest by its' way,
Until you find me...
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
Sometimes the stars seem to fall around me...and sometimes I think that I'm the one tearing them from the skyy.
 
 
 
   Talk next time cherubs,
 
    Miss CLScarlett xx

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