I was at first a poem When i was young and innocent And my abuser was a poet I loved them back then Even when i coughed up passion flowers and belladonna A poem wasn't supposed to speak up Or write poems I am now a poet writing melodies into existence Worlds into words Carving my tales into the world Making my mark My poems are Hazel trees taking root and Venus' looking glass sticking up through the snow I am more powerful now I know how to recognize when a poem is hurt As i was one I am still a poem I am everything that was written But even words and meanings change with time
I am alone its the night. Its gloomy Embrace it Its dark it hides you I'm scared you're weak. I want to talk they wont listen I want to explain, they'll misunderstand. I love them Do they? They say they do Its fake. I need help its useless to ask. I want to share they'll mock you. I will stay quiet, good for you. But I want to cry, you're weak.
*Dark academia tracks possess an otherworldly charm, beckoning listeners to explore the enigmatic realms of mystery, romance, and intellectual curiosity*
"impeccable..." Her hands ghosted through the veil ever so delicately, like the night's breeze insisting to howl at the window, her hands never stopped fondling, caressing, devoting that white piece of fabric. "What is impeccable?" I whisper, afraid of what could happen next; What would she do? What could she do? That pale cold skin, that slim fingers, dirty nails, shaking wrists... "You. The veil. The dress...my dress... impeccable." I heard her sigh. Tired, exhausted almost, she caressed the veil once more, the dried pads of her fingers drawing the outlines of the lace. "Thank you... I haven't asked if it was polite to use the design once again..." "No, my love, it is fine by me. We match now and will match in eternity, even if it is just the eternity of this moment..."
…Except God and oneself. Accept and love the wondrous creature that you are. Be amused by your self. Life is wonderful, and even more beautiful with music like this. Dare to be amazed.
You are the only one who can be the one who loves you the way you want no matter what anyone thinks you know yourself for who you are and not through a lens of external opinions
Just a little caterpillar and the flower One was hated One was liked the flower took pity on it The caterpillar takes advantage of it... They spent days together happier than ever after the two becoming lovers the stars have crossed The caterpillar knows it One live to eat One live to die It hurt the flower Then becoming the 'flower" Fly through the air leaving the one it used to grow with and again... One is useful One is useless Go to other flowers The young butterfly attracted to the sweet nectar Little knowledge it has didn't know the danger Its wings teared by the torn Its body is poison by the flowers yet it still survived remembered the one it used to grow with it fly back to the flowers It safe place but is the flowers think the same It looks from afar to see the flower is back healthy when its away It was overjoyed and fly to it the two meet to love again But.... The butterfly leave knowing the cycle will continue again When it bore the 'caterpillar' on him It will be hurt again Leaving the flower alone and moved afar the butterfly spent its days wandering around the others the flower lives with the other flowers
beauty flowed from my pens to my pages never had good school grades but always in my mind thinking not of how we could have been but who we are we have been standing here on this ledge for some time he looks in my eyes hoping to find the courage in my tears to jump i look at him numb as ever not knowing how i got here but knowing my way out cannot be through death now here i still stand being wished happy birthdays i didnt expect to see living a life meant for me and him but he unalived his self that day i dont think i ever found my platonic night in the moonlight again and now i ask mirror mirror on the wall,why did i see the pain in that boys eyes and not say it all
Le poème d'un premier un amour, Cet amour, qui te fais passer par mille émotions Cet amour, qui te fais aimer ta propre réflexion Cet amour, ou tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté Cet amour, qui te fais jouir comme une journée d'été Ce coeur pur, que tu ne cesse de voir Ou que tu passes, tes yeux voudrais croire Le voir encore une fois Ce coeur pur, que tu ne veux qu'à toi Cet endroit si pur Ou tu t'y pelotonne contre ses murs Ses murs chauds et baladeurs Tu voudrais le vivre mais tu n'es qu'un grand rêveur Cette personne, qui t'as fait découvrir les profondeurs de l'amour Cette personne, que tu dois laisser partir, le coeur lourd Cette personne, tu ne te retiens pas d'être amoureux Cette personne, tu lâche tout cet amour en pensant être heureux Mais finalement, cela n'a jamais été réciproque
I will not chase anybody for any longer I am done being a dog who’s leash continues to be yanked on It’s only purpose being for me to be choked Strangled by the pull of someone who couldn’t care less.
I'll try. Words I cant read are "..." in give into ... Desire of mine ... so (bord or bond idk) To ... it's mons...usly .. Blader. I ... the screaming ... (literally and figuratively) is still there. It's in It will follow me I like There are some words I think I know but some letters are very unreadable, so it could maybe mean multiple things. Hope this helps? Idk Anyway, remember to drink some water today!
Ignore it to give into … Desire of mine thy … so hard to wait it’s monstrously Blades. I tried the screaming… (literally and figuratively) is still there. It’s in it will follow me I like
To be a poem is the sick dream of the poet. To know a muse is best blank like a canvas and silent as a statue placed on a pedestal, Easy to dream on, Easy to break. The pedestals of muses aee flimsy and unreliable built by artists not professionals. They are structural nightmares, Weak and out of bounds. I would not trust a pedestal built by my own two hands.
I was at first a poem
When i was young and innocent
And my abuser was a poet
I loved them back then
Even when i coughed up passion flowers and belladonna
A poem wasn't supposed to speak up
Or write poems
I am now a poet writing melodies into existence
Worlds into words
Carving my tales into the world
Making my mark
My poems are Hazel trees taking root and Venus' looking glass sticking up through the snow
I am more powerful now
I know how to recognize when a poem is hurt
As i was one
I am still a poem
I am everything that was written
But even words and meanings change with time
holy shit. that was... that was fucking good. damn. i subbed to you for that holy.
@@HomeIsNowhereToBeFound vsgdvdgdh oh gosh thank you
OMGFG HOLY SHOOT BALLS Shakespeare's been real quiet since you dropped this
It's AMAZING!!
I love this sm
Anyone can write a poem, but only a poet's poem can paint a picture that you never part with.
‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?’
Me
Your Joe mama
Candice
Yoona.
@@ProcidensSidus MOOOMMMMM PHINEAS AND FERB ARE BUILDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN THE BACKYARD AGAINNNN
I am alone
its the night.
Its gloomy
Embrace it
Its dark
it hides you
I'm scared
you're weak.
I want to talk
they wont listen
I want to explain,
they'll misunderstand.
I love them
Do they?
They say they do
Its fake.
I need help
its useless to ask.
I want to share
they'll mock you.
I will stay quiet,
good for you.
But I want to cry,
you're weak.
*Dark academia tracks possess an otherworldly charm, beckoning listeners to explore the enigmatic realms of mystery, romance, and intellectual curiosity*
Ah, you expressed it very well
"impeccable..."
Her hands ghosted through the veil ever so delicately, like the night's breeze insisting to howl at the window, her hands never stopped fondling, caressing, devoting that white piece of fabric.
"What is impeccable?" I whisper, afraid of what could happen next; What would she do? What could she do? That pale cold skin, that slim fingers, dirty nails, shaking wrists...
"You. The veil. The dress...my dress... impeccable." I heard her sigh. Tired, exhausted almost, she caressed the veil once more, the dried pads of her fingers drawing the outlines of the lace.
"Thank you... I haven't asked if it was polite to use the design once again..."
"No, my love, it is fine by me. We match now and will match in eternity, even if it is just the eternity of this moment..."
Omg we got a writer in the chat
No one can ever truly love you the way you want to be loved
…Except God and oneself. Accept and love the wondrous creature that you are. Be amused by your self. Life is wonderful, and even more beautiful with music like this. Dare to be amazed.
@@sarahloffler 😐
It’s true. Come sit and listen to the birds waking up, gathering up their songs into a morning medley.
You are the only one who can be the one who loves you the way you want no matter what anyone thinks
you know yourself for who you are and not through a lens of external opinions
Bro I came here to read!! Where’s all the dark academia stories at????
I love this playlist so much, so poetic ! Perfect for writing and reading
Mirror mirror on the wall why did I come to this world at all?
thank you! I studied easily for an hour during this playlist :)
This playlist is amazing, tysm! 🎆✨
Just a little caterpillar
and the flower
One was hated
One was liked
the flower took pity on it
The caterpillar takes advantage of it...
They spent days together
happier than ever after
the two becoming lovers
the stars have crossed
The caterpillar knows it
One live to eat
One live to die
It hurt the flower
Then becoming the 'flower"
Fly through the air
leaving the one it used to grow with
and again...
One is useful
One is useless
Go to other flowers
The young butterfly attracted to the sweet nectar
Little knowledge it has
didn't know the danger
Its wings teared by the torn
Its body is poison by the flowers
yet it still survived
remembered the one it used to grow with
it fly back to the flowers
It safe place but is the flowers think the same
It looks from afar
to see the flower is back healthy when its away
It was overjoyed and fly to it
the two meet to love again
But....
The butterfly leave knowing the cycle will continue again
When it bore the 'caterpillar' on him
It will be hurt again
Leaving the flower alone and moved afar
the butterfly spent its days wandering around the others
the flower lives with the other flowers
참 정성스럽고 이야기가 있는 영상이네요~
늘 감사히 잘 머물고 힐링하고있어요~
좋아요꾹!!!!!
오늘도 행복하세요~언제나 최고!
i love your playlists!
beauty flowed from my pens to my pages
never had good school grades but always in my mind thinking not of how we could have been
but who we are
we have been standing here on this ledge
for some time he looks in my eyes hoping to find the courage in my tears to jump
i look at him numb as ever not knowing how i got here
but knowing my way out cannot be through death
now here i still stand
being wished happy birthdays i didnt expect to see living a life meant for me and him
but he unalived his self that day i dont think i ever found my
platonic night in the moonlight again
and now i ask mirror mirror on the wall,why did i see the pain in that boys eyes and not say it all
A beautiful collection of music .
How lovely.
The person i like is impossible.
What i mean by impossible is his love for me will be impossible.
I'm dying to know the name of the piece at 33:54 it's so beautiful
It's "Leaving by train" by Franz Gordon :)
The origins need to be respected❤
i love it
Le poème d'un premier un amour,
Cet amour, qui te fais passer par mille émotions
Cet amour, qui te fais aimer ta propre réflexion
Cet amour, ou tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté
Cet amour, qui te fais jouir comme une journée d'été
Ce coeur pur, que tu ne cesse de voir
Ou que tu passes, tes yeux voudrais croire
Le voir encore une fois
Ce coeur pur, que tu ne veux qu'à toi
Cet endroit si pur
Ou tu t'y pelotonne contre ses murs
Ses murs chauds et baladeurs
Tu voudrais le vivre mais tu n'es qu'un grand rêveur
Cette personne, qui t'as fait découvrir les profondeurs de l'amour
Cette personne, que tu dois laisser partir, le coeur lourd
Cette personne, tu ne te retiens pas d'être amoureux
Cette personne, tu lâche tout cet amour en pensant être heureux
Mais finalement, cela n'a jamais été réciproque
Can you please write the list 🙏 thank you
Is this playlist copyright free?
I will not chase anybody for any longer
I am done being a dog who’s leash continues to be yanked on
It’s only purpose being for me to be choked
Strangled by the pull of someone who couldn’t care less.
can anyone here actually read this messy cursive handwriting?... haha...
I'll try. Words I cant read are "..."
in give into
... Desire of mine
... so (bord or bond idk) To ...
it's mons...usly
.. Blader. I ...
the screaming ...
(literally and figuratively)
is still there. It's in
It will follow me
I like
There are some words I think I know but some letters are very unreadable, so it could maybe mean multiple things.
Hope this helps? Idk
Anyway, remember to drink some water today!
It will follow me
Is that what I got from one of the last lines
Ignore it
to give into
… Desire of mine
thy … so hard to wait
it’s monstrously
Blades. I tried
the screaming…
(literally and figuratively)
is still there. It’s in
it will follow me
I like
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slm
To be a poem is the sick dream of the poet.
To know a muse is best blank like a canvas and silent as a statue placed on a pedestal,
Easy to dream on,
Easy to break.
The pedestals of muses aee flimsy and unreliable built by artists not professionals.
They are structural nightmares,
Weak and out of bounds.
I would not trust a pedestal built by my own two hands.
*use not aee
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