The Eleven Dark Islets that float in my Sea...we are washed away, we are washed away...

 

'Theres something in the look you give,
I can’t help myself I fall,
I can’t help myself at all,
Theres something in your touch when we kiss
I scream God forgive me please,
‘Cause I want you on your knees,
I don’t wanna think about it now,
I know I wont get out if I fall in,
So I dont wanna think about it now,
It’s dark in my imagination,
It’s dark in my imagination,
Theres something in the look you give,
Are you giving it to her ‘cause I’m not entirely sure,
Can’t help but wonder where you’ve been all day,
Just say when im so far away that you give yourself a taste,
‘Cause I dont wanna think about it now,'

         
          This song has been playing on my soul lately, and if you're curious to hear it, then I invite you to watch the video I've posted at the end of this Blog. It's a song called Dark in My Imagination by Verona, I believe. The first time I listened to it, it echoed out to me...and brought me again to that other place...through the doorway to eternity for a while. Perhaps the only downside is that everything else is seeming stale compared to this song, which is a weird thing to say, I know, but it's the effect it gives to me.

However...
onto lighter matters, as one could sayy.
 



 

I travel back to my time....

Have you ever felt that you were outside of time,

or that more and more of the world is leaving you behind?

Why is it...

that we are born fractured?

and that those fractures grow the longer we allow,

 the web of the world to bind us in its' suffocating embrace...

 

A small summer tune to light your way...

tendrils curl in the sky today,

Eaves  are swayed with the dust-wind that blows...

and long grass stalks are all you know,

Heated cement cracks beneath the light...

of a beyond-blue sky,

and wider moons at night...

Snails trail the paths through grit and earth,

while melodies carry to lands beyond earth...

white-washed stones lead to a road by the sea,

in which you call to the myths there through the holes in the piers...

Ice water embraces you through swarmy summer haze,

while cockleshells and Mir-green shawls swim about your ankles in the waves...

a current tugs you to a tiny inlet,

where rainforest's droops and sand is gold and felt...

Quetzel's dance in the trees above,

and starfish dream of the ocean that they have been thrown from...

A way it presents itself through the brush,

scattered with precious stones and tiny bones...

regal offerings of life and death,

which insure that your journey is granted, blessed...

You happen across a cave,

spun with Jasmine hue...

and inviting you in to a cool blue gloom,

you wander along a trail that sparkles...

with fractured mirrors built into the walls,

and suddenly you come across a well made of pale stone....

and into its' depths you cast down your eyes below,

A scattered image of your true face...

and then a flare of brilliance down there, unknown, in place,

It races up towards you...

as if it knew you were there,

 

 

 

In a minute you experience a sensation of charm...

of knowledge and understanding,

and a returning home...

you understand finally that being lost is not being gone,

and that the road to heartland was just obscured by shadow and gloom...

we are never truly gone indeed,

just lost in the labyrinth...

of our own screaming thoughts,

then the light is upon you and you pass by all of that...

as the Brilliance it fills you and then spreads to the earth,

the machines cease their creaking...

while the farmers stop in their fields,

the sun and sky grow quiet...

and the trees begin to sigh,

Father time gives us a century or two...

to while away the hours,

and release our glooms...

and then you are back on the beach,

with someone you know...

a candle to keep the dark away,

in your own small life...

a hut tilting into an ever-present breeze,

and a place to lay your head without unease.

 

Welcome home,

go ripzinma oxpsu...

we have always loved you.

 

 

Just wanted to say that all the artwork I put on my Blog are small sparks of light that I have found here and there on the Internet, none of it is mine, and I love all you artists out there. xx

 

 

 

  Hoping you are all surviving whichever season you are in both in the world and yourself.

Have a wonderful January of this our 2013.

 

  Much Love,

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

  P.S. If anyone, at any time wanted to email me about anything, from the desire to go unicorn-hunting to just desiring to have someone to talk to, email me on: C.L.Scarlett@hotmail.co.uk