|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Imaginary FriendCloaked with prowling imagination, of which consumes me with every waking moment, laughed upon
For longing illusions brought out by pure innocent amusement, what nothingness to the eye is but a jar
Of enclosed fascination to those at present, what comes and goes is yet believed to be swallowed lost
Foolishness, to such nonsense longs to await my soul, for sorrow after sorrow brings nothing but longing
Whims of pain, and then comes forth out of my dreams my whimsical friend, so fictitious and strange
But as real and energetic as to touch our pound of flesh, now but a memory locked away in the dimness
Of childhood, oh how I wish to bring my misapprehended companion back again……
Something far worse that chills the blood, a synthetic shell to hold a corpse inside, now
Just a mockery to delusion, wasting away above the surface, turning into lubricants of dust,
Poor doubtless soul, being seen to only terrorize the eyes, broadened amongst human tissue,
Head and body torn apart from the perils of the world, leaving nothing but an already gloomed
Decaying skull, anonymous to the realms of society, allured to the death of the missing......
Plea from the DyingDays into years, I have wasted too much time locked away in pains delight, an innocent soul now lost
Into the wonders of dreams, only now a dying specter enveloped in the mists of phantoms light, tucked
Away to succumb to the shadows, which haunts my soul in this weary dimension, why do you torment
Me now as I am but asleep, but oh how your unsoundness of fun, has turned to mere insanity, which in
Time I am sure will haunt you, and come to remember me, for you have cut off my hopes and dreams,
For I will invade your dreams, can you but open your eyes and see that you have closed a door that will
Never open, for I am gone and shall never return….
Shoot to KillShoot to kill for nobody would miss a little person, flying through the midst of such like ones in this
Realm of fallen pieces, who would care for there is no difference between me and them, I am but a
Card lost in the deck of which nobody misses, fighting off the perils of labor, for I am the one beaten
To oblivion, I was born here and I cannot escape, but I will maybe now because I hate this place,
Sickening to be around souls wanting mute attention, being forced to live in this place is forcing me
To be so alone and forgotten…..
The QuietA simple request that didn’t involve anyone else, I wanted to be invisible so people wouldn’t be able to see my flaws… my imperfection…. I felt like I was only half alive, when I was in a room with people, it was as if I wasn’t there, I was a ghost and that frightened me the most. Being quiet was my salvation, being seen but not heard now that was a joy. Just watching, to see what others would do, how they would react, it was like I was the audience, and they were all narcotic actors. To have a friend a true friend not the kind who would listen to your problems and then leave.
No a real friend, one to understand how I felt, I wish there was really one out there. I was not looking for acceptance that was just an illusion everyone wanted. I was a mere puppet of mockery, walking on this line of reality, words were what held me together. When words were spoken at me, it was like they were against me in the crowd... I was an synthetic corpse who wanted to go
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More