M
mothership
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Hello - to a beautiful soul. I hope your year is a blessed one.
Shy's quaint country cottage
- Thread starter ShyMystica
- Start date
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
I know it is late, but to all the litsters out there...
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
She slips through the darkened hallway, single rose grasped between soft fingertips; her mind caught on the day she found herself to be in.
Valentines Day.
Slipping the rose into a vase upon her piano, she settles at the piano and simply watches the silent keys. The day shouldn't matter. It mattered little in the past; men always finding a reason not to take this day to heart. Time after time the lack of the day grew to a lonely skepticism that the day shouldn't matter. That everyday should be filled with love, affection, romance, playfulness and happiness. What should a day matter to show such things?
But it did.
Today was no different, but for different reasons. The day shouldn't matter, but it somehow did. Perhaps it was just him...being apart was something new. Fingertips stroked along the keys as a song began to form. Words were never her strength.
But to say them...
'I miss you'
'I want you'
'I need you'
All were true, and so much more. She was happy. He made her so happy. Beyond what she felt she deserved. Perhaps that is why the day was so bittersweet. To be away from him. Without his touch, his voice, his presence. Even now as the words rung within her mind, they weren't enough. And courage was all she needed, yet the words remained within. Two days she had to find it.
With a deep breath the melody grew, fingers floating as if beyond the keys. Tomorrow...she would say the words tomorrow.
But to the rest of the world in love, out of love, in the middle...
Happy Valentines Day.
Valentines Day.
Slipping the rose into a vase upon her piano, she settles at the piano and simply watches the silent keys. The day shouldn't matter. It mattered little in the past; men always finding a reason not to take this day to heart. Time after time the lack of the day grew to a lonely skepticism that the day shouldn't matter. That everyday should be filled with love, affection, romance, playfulness and happiness. What should a day matter to show such things?
But it did.
Today was no different, but for different reasons. The day shouldn't matter, but it somehow did. Perhaps it was just him...being apart was something new. Fingertips stroked along the keys as a song began to form. Words were never her strength.
But to say them...
'I miss you'
'I want you'
'I need you'
All were true, and so much more. She was happy. He made her so happy. Beyond what she felt she deserved. Perhaps that is why the day was so bittersweet. To be away from him. Without his touch, his voice, his presence. Even now as the words rung within her mind, they weren't enough. And courage was all she needed, yet the words remained within. Two days she had to find it.
With a deep breath the melody grew, fingers floating as if beyond the keys. Tomorrow...she would say the words tomorrow.
But to the rest of the world in love, out of love, in the middle...
Happy Valentines Day.
Last edited:
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
A Beginning...
Music floats from within the small cottage studio. Inside she sits upon her stool; blonde hair longer than the last time she came to be in this written world, green eyes gazing at the new space she created for herself. A space for herself; for expression, creativity, and freedom to explore.
Her studio. Hers.
An easel stands proudly by the wall-length window; the majestic hills rolling and playing with streams and wild flowers before her. Looms adorned with half-finished tapestries and weavings nestle neatly in the corner. Walls decorated with her latest pieces of fabric and canvas as paints, brushes, fabrics and tools lay spread across a large wooden table. And her desk...her treasured desk, humble in it's resting place beside her new bed.
Long gone are memories of trials, struggles and moments of defeat and questioning. This was new. A brand new start. And the space buzzes with the electricity that comes from such an experience.
6 months had passed. She was stronger. She was healthier. She was happier. She was blessed.
Her mind focused on that last word, letting it hum within her mind. There was no luck. Only blessings. She had many. She smiled; a real smile. A soulful smile.
Finally her mind returns to her space and to the people she hoped to see within it. Another smile as eyes fall upon lyrics once given to her. Then a nod. And with an elegant spin upon her stool; tapestry bobbin in hand and she once again continued to weave within the loom.
Music floats from within the small cottage studio. Inside she sits upon her stool; blonde hair longer than the last time she came to be in this written world, green eyes gazing at the new space she created for herself. A space for herself; for expression, creativity, and freedom to explore.
Her studio. Hers.
An easel stands proudly by the wall-length window; the majestic hills rolling and playing with streams and wild flowers before her. Looms adorned with half-finished tapestries and weavings nestle neatly in the corner. Walls decorated with her latest pieces of fabric and canvas as paints, brushes, fabrics and tools lay spread across a large wooden table. And her desk...her treasured desk, humble in it's resting place beside her new bed.
Long gone are memories of trials, struggles and moments of defeat and questioning. This was new. A brand new start. And the space buzzes with the electricity that comes from such an experience.
6 months had passed. She was stronger. She was healthier. She was happier. She was blessed.
Her mind focused on that last word, letting it hum within her mind. There was no luck. Only blessings. She had many. She smiled; a real smile. A soulful smile.
Finally her mind returns to her space and to the people she hoped to see within it. Another smile as eyes fall upon lyrics once given to her. Then a nod. And with an elegant spin upon her stool; tapestry bobbin in hand and she once again continued to weave within the loom.
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
Escape.
Time moves so slowly when the darkness of doubt seeps into the last remaining flickers of light. And all the while eyes remain on escape. Escape from the darkness, from the torment that follows it.
'Turn all that doubt into trust, and see the light for the first time without it being tainted.'
Trust in what? Trust in people? Trust in a higher power? Trust in yourself?
Is that where the real escape is found? In trust?
Let's see...
Time moves so slowly when the darkness of doubt seeps into the last remaining flickers of light. And all the while eyes remain on escape. Escape from the darkness, from the torment that follows it.
'Turn all that doubt into trust, and see the light for the first time without it being tainted.'
Trust in what? Trust in people? Trust in a higher power? Trust in yourself?
Is that where the real escape is found? In trust?
Let's see...
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
I don't feel brave. I feel broken, beaten and raw. I feel guilt and doubt. But I need to let it go, let it be...and put faith and hope in those who can see clearly.
Angels: Robbie Williams
I sit and wait
Does an angel contemplate my fate
And do they know
The places where we go
When we're grey and old
'cos I have been told
That salvation lets their wings unfold
So when I'm lying in my bed
Thoughts running through my head
And I feel the love is dead
I'm loving angels instead
And through it all she offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call she won't forsake me
I'm loving angels instead
When I'm feeling weak
And my pain walks down a one way street
I look above
And I know I'll always be blessed with love
And as the feeling grows
She breathes flesh to my bones
And when love is dead
I'm loving angels instead
And through it all she offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call she won't forsake me
I'm loving angels instead
And through it all she offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call she won't forsake me
I'm loving angels instead
Angels: Robbie Williams
I sit and wait
Does an angel contemplate my fate
And do they know
The places where we go
When we're grey and old
'cos I have been told
That salvation lets their wings unfold
So when I'm lying in my bed
Thoughts running through my head
And I feel the love is dead
I'm loving angels instead
And through it all she offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call she won't forsake me
I'm loving angels instead
When I'm feeling weak
And my pain walks down a one way street
I look above
And I know I'll always be blessed with love
And as the feeling grows
She breathes flesh to my bones
And when love is dead
I'm loving angels instead
And through it all she offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call she won't forsake me
I'm loving angels instead
And through it all she offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call she won't forsake me
I'm loving angels instead
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
Reminder!
Write down the dream. Don't let it consume you.
Write down the dream. Don't let it consume you.
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
The Dream...
“I love how you bleed, my little light...”
Blood drips from my brow. Shakily, I stand to study him…up and down. I absorb his physique: blonde, piercing white-blue eyes, a stature that towers over my frame. I know him...but never like this. I have known him for as long as I remember; his essence living within me. He is the darkness that overcomes me. He is the hate that swells with my existence. He is my demon within. Only now...he is here. He is living. And my cut forehead stings with the reality that my mind cannot accept. He lives. He is alive. He is real.
My demon is real.
His breath is heavy yet shallow, quick puffs of warm air escaping his cut lip. He stumbles forward, limping on every left step…the pain squints from his eyes as he steps closer…closer…each new step breaking an old hope and dream.
Dream…is that what this is? A disturbing, violent and excruciating interpretation of a fairytale dream I used to sleep to? My eyes drop from his. I can’t bare to hold a gaze so angelic yet brimming with an evil I can’t even comprehend. I have felt that evil many times. It tared my soul into pieces that I fear would never mend. But to see it...see it gazing directly into my soul. I can’t...I simply can’t...
So I don’t.
I look away to find myself in familiar surroundings…Light? No…the windows are shut with no sign of daylight streaming through the cracks. Hazy…blurry…yet I recognise my possessions… scattered viciously on the cold floor.
Cold? Yes…I’m naked…why? Can’t breathe…pain…shooting pain. Chest…blood covers my unsteady hand. He moves into my line of sight…smash…another hope destroyed. Why…pain…him…blood…dark…cold…broken…why?
I step back, look away, and keep him out of my peripheral vision. He doesn’t allow it. One swift movement and my jaw is grasped tightly in his unyielding palm. Another movement and my head is lifted. He inspects me. I see him studying, pupils dilated as he follows the droplet of blood from its birth upon my forehead, down along the side of my cheek and jaw to finally leave my body and pool upon the floor.
“Yes...” My soul shivers at the pleasure in his voice. And it hangs in the air like a taunting stench of hell itself. “I certainly do love the way you bleed...”
A moment passes, and another, and another until the silence itself becomes excruciating. And all the while I am lost...lost to the angelic eyes that brim with evil. I want to look away, and I can’t. Every fibre of my being is screaming...
‘No, do not give in. Not again. He does not own you! Not now! Never again!’
Yet I feel the pull...the pull to kneel, to bow, to succumb to the ways of his being. To let his evil rule me, forever rule me...always filled with self-hate, self-doubt, self-anger.
My soul screams louder...a never-ending battle within me of his will and my soul. And my past? My soul never wins, but it never gives in.
‘He does not own you!’
“No! You do not own me!” My voice surprises me, and I know that it surprises him in equal measure. Despite the wicked smirk that stretches his lips, his heavenly eyes do not hide his surprise. I know he hasn’t heard those words before, not from my lips at least. And that terrifies me. I fear for my life with the look that gazes upon me.
“Oh...but I do. I always have.” His hand finally releases my jaw, and it aches painfully as a constant reminder of his hold. But it doesn’t leave my body. It slips lower, almost like a lover’s graze of teasing fingertips before circling around my throat. I cannot breathe. Panic rises. But before I can blink I am thrown across the room, my body slamming into a wooden chair.
With a wave of his hand I am restrained; leather straps dyed a violent blood-red, etchings of an ancient language I cannot read carved into its flesh. I cannot move. Cannot run. Cannot duck, or dodge, or escape. There is no escape. And his gaze...it burns. It burns my soul.
I finally look away as the burning flames of his gaze erupts within me.
A knife. My knife. He holds it now, and a new fear rises within me. Pain. So much pain. The agony and hellish torment he has pushed upon me year after year after year. The look in his eyes tells me that was nothing compared to what I am about to be subject to.
“I see your fear, little light. You cannot hide it from me.”
I cannot reply. I cannot move. I cannot look away. And with every heavy step as he stumbles forward the fear grows. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to be free of him. Forever free of him. A tear swells in my unblinking eyes, and his smirk seems to brighten as it falls down my cheeks.
“You see...I created that fear.” Finally he stands before me; his other hand caressing my cheek with a gentleness I would be foolish to believe as genuine. “I know you, little light...know you better than any living soul will.”
No, it can’t be true. It wasn’t true. I know it wasn’t true. That he lies...my demon lies...
“Because I own you.”
I wince at those words as more tears fall. I know those words, but not from his lips. From another...my knight, my light...my Master. I search inward, desperate to find my Master’s voice buried within my memory.
I can’t find it.
I can’t find it.
I lost it...
A laugh. My head falls as my demon’s laugh dances within the small room; my soul seeming to shatter that I, once again, forgot my Master’s voice.
“Your mind...” A sting as he taunts my heart with words that were never his. My knife pierces the flesh of my cheek as warmth of blood flow freely from the wound.
“Your heart...” There is no relief. My demon is taunting me...corrupting the only thing I know to be true. The knife continues down my throat, etching over my chest in the same ancient language I cannot read.
“Your body...” A flick of his wrist and what pain I just received multiplies. My skin glows in a red hue as those ancient words magically carve into every inch of my body.
I stop breathing. Breathing hurts. It all hurts. Far too much. More than anything I have ever experienced before. More than words can ever describe. I want to die. I cry with my need...to escape. Be free. I scream. It shocks me. The anguished cry rips from my bleeding, shivering body; and I only recognise it from the pain it takes to make such a noise. I know I physically cannot take much more. I already feel the will to kneel to his darkness growing...simply to make it stop.
“Your so...”
“No!” Again my voice shocks me. My demon lies! “You do not own my soul! You will never own my soul. Or my mind, or body, or heart. Never!”
He laughs again, his breath impossibly hot against my ear as he whispers...”Do you honestly believe that he wants you? That he chose you?”
My demon pulls away, forcing my gaze deep into his. “You are not worthy of one such as him. You are pathetic. You are nothing but a rotting soul born to bow down to me.”
“No! You lie! You do not own me. Never! He owns me...”
There is silence as the last of my words vibrate amidst the air. The knife falls from his hand, shatters upon the floor as if made of glass. His eyes burn the white flames of his true nature. The etchings upon my skin burn deeper than the deepest pits of hell. I cannot hold on. It hurts too much...But as my body buckles, my soul strengthens. Defiance as my words ring true.
“Ami...wake up...” The voice I lost. So soft I barely hear it as it seems to flutter through a consciousness I barely have the strength to grasp. My eyes close as I bask in the swelling relief that I hadn’t lost it...in his voice, his words...
“Yes I do!” My demon bellows, drowning my Masters’ voice. The etchings upon my form burn impossibly deeper, and again my anguished cries rip from my throat. His hand circles my throat, chocking my last breaths from me. The briefest of thoughts cross my mind...did I really hear his voice? Was it imagined? The pain...it’s too much.
“Ami! Wake up! Now!”
“I love how you bleed, my little light...”
Blood drips from my brow. Shakily, I stand to study him…up and down. I absorb his physique: blonde, piercing white-blue eyes, a stature that towers over my frame. I know him...but never like this. I have known him for as long as I remember; his essence living within me. He is the darkness that overcomes me. He is the hate that swells with my existence. He is my demon within. Only now...he is here. He is living. And my cut forehead stings with the reality that my mind cannot accept. He lives. He is alive. He is real.
My demon is real.
His breath is heavy yet shallow, quick puffs of warm air escaping his cut lip. He stumbles forward, limping on every left step…the pain squints from his eyes as he steps closer…closer…each new step breaking an old hope and dream.
Dream…is that what this is? A disturbing, violent and excruciating interpretation of a fairytale dream I used to sleep to? My eyes drop from his. I can’t bare to hold a gaze so angelic yet brimming with an evil I can’t even comprehend. I have felt that evil many times. It tared my soul into pieces that I fear would never mend. But to see it...see it gazing directly into my soul. I can’t...I simply can’t...
So I don’t.
I look away to find myself in familiar surroundings…Light? No…the windows are shut with no sign of daylight streaming through the cracks. Hazy…blurry…yet I recognise my possessions… scattered viciously on the cold floor.
Cold? Yes…I’m naked…why? Can’t breathe…pain…shooting pain. Chest…blood covers my unsteady hand. He moves into my line of sight…smash…another hope destroyed. Why…pain…him…blood…dark…cold…broken…why?
I step back, look away, and keep him out of my peripheral vision. He doesn’t allow it. One swift movement and my jaw is grasped tightly in his unyielding palm. Another movement and my head is lifted. He inspects me. I see him studying, pupils dilated as he follows the droplet of blood from its birth upon my forehead, down along the side of my cheek and jaw to finally leave my body and pool upon the floor.
“Yes...” My soul shivers at the pleasure in his voice. And it hangs in the air like a taunting stench of hell itself. “I certainly do love the way you bleed...”
A moment passes, and another, and another until the silence itself becomes excruciating. And all the while I am lost...lost to the angelic eyes that brim with evil. I want to look away, and I can’t. Every fibre of my being is screaming...
‘No, do not give in. Not again. He does not own you! Not now! Never again!’
Yet I feel the pull...the pull to kneel, to bow, to succumb to the ways of his being. To let his evil rule me, forever rule me...always filled with self-hate, self-doubt, self-anger.
My soul screams louder...a never-ending battle within me of his will and my soul. And my past? My soul never wins, but it never gives in.
‘He does not own you!’
“No! You do not own me!” My voice surprises me, and I know that it surprises him in equal measure. Despite the wicked smirk that stretches his lips, his heavenly eyes do not hide his surprise. I know he hasn’t heard those words before, not from my lips at least. And that terrifies me. I fear for my life with the look that gazes upon me.
“Oh...but I do. I always have.” His hand finally releases my jaw, and it aches painfully as a constant reminder of his hold. But it doesn’t leave my body. It slips lower, almost like a lover’s graze of teasing fingertips before circling around my throat. I cannot breathe. Panic rises. But before I can blink I am thrown across the room, my body slamming into a wooden chair.
With a wave of his hand I am restrained; leather straps dyed a violent blood-red, etchings of an ancient language I cannot read carved into its flesh. I cannot move. Cannot run. Cannot duck, or dodge, or escape. There is no escape. And his gaze...it burns. It burns my soul.
I finally look away as the burning flames of his gaze erupts within me.
A knife. My knife. He holds it now, and a new fear rises within me. Pain. So much pain. The agony and hellish torment he has pushed upon me year after year after year. The look in his eyes tells me that was nothing compared to what I am about to be subject to.
“I see your fear, little light. You cannot hide it from me.”
I cannot reply. I cannot move. I cannot look away. And with every heavy step as he stumbles forward the fear grows. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to be free of him. Forever free of him. A tear swells in my unblinking eyes, and his smirk seems to brighten as it falls down my cheeks.
“You see...I created that fear.” Finally he stands before me; his other hand caressing my cheek with a gentleness I would be foolish to believe as genuine. “I know you, little light...know you better than any living soul will.”
No, it can’t be true. It wasn’t true. I know it wasn’t true. That he lies...my demon lies...
“Because I own you.”
I wince at those words as more tears fall. I know those words, but not from his lips. From another...my knight, my light...my Master. I search inward, desperate to find my Master’s voice buried within my memory.
I can’t find it.
I can’t find it.
I lost it...
A laugh. My head falls as my demon’s laugh dances within the small room; my soul seeming to shatter that I, once again, forgot my Master’s voice.
“Your mind...” A sting as he taunts my heart with words that were never his. My knife pierces the flesh of my cheek as warmth of blood flow freely from the wound.
“Your heart...” There is no relief. My demon is taunting me...corrupting the only thing I know to be true. The knife continues down my throat, etching over my chest in the same ancient language I cannot read.
“Your body...” A flick of his wrist and what pain I just received multiplies. My skin glows in a red hue as those ancient words magically carve into every inch of my body.
I stop breathing. Breathing hurts. It all hurts. Far too much. More than anything I have ever experienced before. More than words can ever describe. I want to die. I cry with my need...to escape. Be free. I scream. It shocks me. The anguished cry rips from my bleeding, shivering body; and I only recognise it from the pain it takes to make such a noise. I know I physically cannot take much more. I already feel the will to kneel to his darkness growing...simply to make it stop.
“Your so...”
“No!” Again my voice shocks me. My demon lies! “You do not own my soul! You will never own my soul. Or my mind, or body, or heart. Never!”
He laughs again, his breath impossibly hot against my ear as he whispers...”Do you honestly believe that he wants you? That he chose you?”
My demon pulls away, forcing my gaze deep into his. “You are not worthy of one such as him. You are pathetic. You are nothing but a rotting soul born to bow down to me.”
“No! You lie! You do not own me. Never! He owns me...”
There is silence as the last of my words vibrate amidst the air. The knife falls from his hand, shatters upon the floor as if made of glass. His eyes burn the white flames of his true nature. The etchings upon my skin burn deeper than the deepest pits of hell. I cannot hold on. It hurts too much...But as my body buckles, my soul strengthens. Defiance as my words ring true.
“Ami...wake up...” The voice I lost. So soft I barely hear it as it seems to flutter through a consciousness I barely have the strength to grasp. My eyes close as I bask in the swelling relief that I hadn’t lost it...in his voice, his words...
“Yes I do!” My demon bellows, drowning my Masters’ voice. The etchings upon my form burn impossibly deeper, and again my anguished cries rip from my throat. His hand circles my throat, chocking my last breaths from me. The briefest of thoughts cross my mind...did I really hear his voice? Was it imagined? The pain...it’s too much.
“Ami! Wake up! Now!”
Last edited:
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
The song of the night caressed at her windowsill; her usual chair pushed so she could gaze freely at the surrounding forest as the moonbeams danced and sung.
Inwardly she didn't.
She was scared. Scared to close her heavy eyes and be taken away. The same nightmare continued to haunt her. Night after night after night. And there was no escape. Where can one escape when their dreamland holds no safety? She had no answer. No one did. So she sat and watched the glowing moon; her heart slipping further into sadness. The one she wanted...so far away. Tears fell. Everyone was so far away...tucked into their beds while their souls frolicked in blissful, dream-filled slumber.
So alone.
It was unbearable. She simply wanted to sleep...and sleep safely.
A wipe of tears from her cheek and she stood, delicate fingers caressing over her piano as she willed herself to be calm. It had been so long since she played. And as she sat upon the stool, nightgown pulled to sit upon her thighs, she looked inward...searching for a song that would calm.
Eyes closed, fingers danced and the song was born.
Her mind drifted...
She was floating within a lake. So pure. So quiet. Peace. The weight of the world didn't exist. The harsh realities, the negative souls that forced their way into her mind, the pressure, worries, fears...they simply didn't exist. She simply floated as water caressed, embracing her weary form in such warmth.
Ripples within the water caught her attention. Eyes open to gaze into his. A kiss to her forehead as the water continued to soothe. His strong arms circled her. Safe...so safe. Always so safe. Her soul seemed to sigh. Then the water was gone,and she was left only in his embrace.
The melody slowly comes to a floating end, and her mind crashes back to reality; her heavy head falling to rest upon the piano.
More tears. So she stood, making her way through to her room, closing the door behind her as her mind focused purely on him...on his arms, his safety. Perhaps tonight would be different.
Inwardly she didn't.
She was scared. Scared to close her heavy eyes and be taken away. The same nightmare continued to haunt her. Night after night after night. And there was no escape. Where can one escape when their dreamland holds no safety? She had no answer. No one did. So she sat and watched the glowing moon; her heart slipping further into sadness. The one she wanted...so far away. Tears fell. Everyone was so far away...tucked into their beds while their souls frolicked in blissful, dream-filled slumber.
So alone.
It was unbearable. She simply wanted to sleep...and sleep safely.
A wipe of tears from her cheek and she stood, delicate fingers caressing over her piano as she willed herself to be calm. It had been so long since she played. And as she sat upon the stool, nightgown pulled to sit upon her thighs, she looked inward...searching for a song that would calm.
Eyes closed, fingers danced and the song was born.
Her mind drifted...
She was floating within a lake. So pure. So quiet. Peace. The weight of the world didn't exist. The harsh realities, the negative souls that forced their way into her mind, the pressure, worries, fears...they simply didn't exist. She simply floated as water caressed, embracing her weary form in such warmth.
Ripples within the water caught her attention. Eyes open to gaze into his. A kiss to her forehead as the water continued to soothe. His strong arms circled her. Safe...so safe. Always so safe. Her soul seemed to sigh. Then the water was gone,and she was left only in his embrace.
The melody slowly comes to a floating end, and her mind crashes back to reality; her heavy head falling to rest upon the piano.
More tears. So she stood, making her way through to her room, closing the door behind her as her mind focused purely on him...on his arms, his safety. Perhaps tonight would be different.
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
Inspiration...
"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
’till it was a battle cry..."
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
’till it was a battle cry..."
Britwitch
Classically curvy
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2004
- Posts
- 23,086
yeishia
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 5, 2009
- Posts
- 17,061
Leaves this on your doorstep.
A newly unearthed piano piece discovered in a 160-page book of handwritten piano music as "the musty attic of a house in Tyrol was being cleared from centuries of detritus."... It has been authenticated and it actually was written by a 10 year old Mozart. 1776.
It is performed by Florian Birsak on one of Mozart’s family grand pianos, Salzburg, Austria.
WORLD PREMIERE: New piano piece by W.A. Mozart
Allegro Molto in C Major: Florian Birsak
Its happy music ShyMystica.
Leaves a bunch of Spring flowers beside the C.D.
A newly unearthed piano piece discovered in a 160-page book of handwritten piano music as "the musty attic of a house in Tyrol was being cleared from centuries of detritus."... It has been authenticated and it actually was written by a 10 year old Mozart. 1776.
It is performed by Florian Birsak on one of Mozart’s family grand pianos, Salzburg, Austria.
WORLD PREMIERE: New piano piece by W.A. Mozart
Allegro Molto in C Major: Florian Birsak
Its happy music ShyMystica.
Leaves a bunch of Spring flowers beside the C.D.
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
Cant breathe. Cant calm. Cant think. Cant sleep. Cant vent.
I feel the last strings of control slipping away.
Must keep fighting.
Dont let it win.
Dont forget. Never forget.
And all I keep thinking..."Please protect me?" "Please hear me?" "Please...save me..."
I feel the last strings of control slipping away.
Must keep fighting.
Dont let it win.
Dont forget. Never forget.
And all I keep thinking..."Please protect me?" "Please hear me?" "Please...save me..."
Last edited:
Fish_Tales
Against the Current
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2011
- Posts
- 5,013
Shy - hi
Your Aussie mate. Haven't see you around. I haven't been around much either, but it doesn't mean I don't like seeing your whimsical dreamy posts.
Just letting you know.
Bye
Fish
Your Aussie mate. Haven't see you around. I haven't been around much either, but it doesn't mean I don't like seeing your whimsical dreamy posts.
Just letting you know.
Bye
Fish
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
Love that song
I know...such a cute, beautiful song.
Leaves this on your doorstep.
A newly unearthed piano piece discovered in a 160-page book of handwritten piano music as "the musty attic of a house in Tyrol was being cleared from centuries of detritus."... It has been authenticated and it actually was written by a 10 year old Mozart. 1776.
It is performed by Florian Birsak on one of Mozart’s family grand pianos, Salzburg, Austria.
WORLD PREMIERE: New piano piece by W.A. Mozart
Allegro Molto in C Major: Florian Birsak
Its happy music ShyMystica.
Leaves a bunch of Spring flowers beside the C.D.
Thank you Yeishia. Such a nice piece to wake up to today.
Shy - hi
Your Aussie mate. Haven't see you around. I haven't been around much either, but it doesn't mean I don't like seeing your whimsical dreamy posts.
Just letting you know.
Bye
Fish
Hey Mr. Fish!
I haven't been around much. I hope you are doing well. It's nice to see you stopping by here
I should catch up on some of your stories.
And Happy Easter.
- Shy
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
Music. Loud. Pounding. Drowning.
Flames leap and dance in the small fireplace. Yet she doesn't watch. Instead the light bathes her face in a distant glow as she watches the shadows on the walls grow.
The Haunting Hour. That is what she had heard this time to be called. The moments after waking from a nightmare. The moments when the terror, fear, anxiety, pain were all so real. Where the mind still struggled to identify the nightmare from reality. When doubt, darkness, regret all rule.
Knees held to her chest, she simply watches the shadows grow as she rocks gently upon the small rug beneath her. In her mind arms held her. In her mind a voice soothed. In her mind she wasn't alone to fight this.
And the music continues to grow. Something simply to drown out the nightmare that continued to haunt her. There was no escape from such a thing. That was the downside to a nightmare. There was no hiding. No denying. No pushing away the images that implanted themselves in the mind. The only option was to push through until it no longer haunted her waking state.
How long had sleep been this way? She had lost count. There were a few nights of relief. One person to thank.
How long would sleep continue this way? It can't be a prediction. No one had that power. It was just a dream...a dream...a nightmare...fictional, made up...
Hands cradled her head as she continues to rock. Self-soothing while imagining better things.
Sleep would come again. It would. It would. Perhaps this time with a dream of happier endings.
Flames leap and dance in the small fireplace. Yet she doesn't watch. Instead the light bathes her face in a distant glow as she watches the shadows on the walls grow.
The Haunting Hour. That is what she had heard this time to be called. The moments after waking from a nightmare. The moments when the terror, fear, anxiety, pain were all so real. Where the mind still struggled to identify the nightmare from reality. When doubt, darkness, regret all rule.
Knees held to her chest, she simply watches the shadows grow as she rocks gently upon the small rug beneath her. In her mind arms held her. In her mind a voice soothed. In her mind she wasn't alone to fight this.
And the music continues to grow. Something simply to drown out the nightmare that continued to haunt her. There was no escape from such a thing. That was the downside to a nightmare. There was no hiding. No denying. No pushing away the images that implanted themselves in the mind. The only option was to push through until it no longer haunted her waking state.
How long had sleep been this way? She had lost count. There were a few nights of relief. One person to thank.
How long would sleep continue this way? It can't be a prediction. No one had that power. It was just a dream...a dream...a nightmare...fictional, made up...
Hands cradled her head as she continues to rock. Self-soothing while imagining better things.
Sleep would come again. It would. It would. Perhaps this time with a dream of happier endings.
ShyMystica
Romantically Minded...
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2009
- Posts
- 4,244
Hey Se7en,
I haven't forgotten about you. I just haven't had the time to get back to you. But I made progress...I have a profile.
I hope you're well.
I haven't forgotten about you. I just haven't had the time to get back to you. But I made progress...I have a profile.
I hope you're well.
yeishia
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 5, 2009
- Posts
- 17,061
Believe in me, I believe in you.
Billy gorgon
(piano cover especially for you)
*
Time is never time at all
You can never ever leave without
Leaving a piece of youth
And our lives are forever changed
You will never be the same
The more you change the less you feel
Believe, believe in me, believe
That life can change
that you're not stuck in vain
We're not the same, we're different tonight
Tonight, so bright
Tonight
And you know you're never sure
But you're sure you could be right
If you held yourself up to the light
And the embers never fade
In your city by the lake
The place where you were born
Believe, believe in me, believe
In the resolute urgency of now
And if you believe there's not a chance tonight
Tonight, so bright
Tonight
We'll crucify the insincere tonight
We'll make things right,we'll feel it all tonight
We'll find a way to offer up the night tonight
The indescribable moments of your life tonight
The impossible is possible tonight
Believe in me as I believe in you, tonight...
Your friend as always,
Yeishia:
Se7en_
Lusty Sinner
- Joined
- Nov 7, 2011
- Posts
- 1,310
Hey, don't worry about that, just enjoy your time
And yeah I read your profile, very nice!
Cheers
Wolf Vixen
POMRS
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2004
- Posts
- 4,165
Shy Oh Shy where are you?? I have an offer for you if you are interested. *called out in a singsong voice*
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