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Perfection or Vanity
02 July 2011 @ 04:26 pm
You there
Bringer of my despair
You are stagnation of hope and will
O you personify loss and remorse
And you hide until my fears reappear

The love for life once bright
(Out of sight)
A burning fuse
The only flame I have
Fate's spiral down this curve
(Shall only serve)
The seeds growing my misery
These wounds kill time
My struggle sublime
Idle the blood
A black state of mind
All dreams left behind

You claim to be my long absent friend
You are the cancer that just moved in
You come with the dark night of the soul
But I am turning my back on you
You know I do
 
 
Perfection or Vanity
26 March 2009 @ 04:34 pm
This song brings back memories...

I have been reading Lord of the Rings this past week and I wanted to share with you two passages that I thought were brilliant. The first is Treebeard, this one made me giggle.

Chapter; Flotsam and Jetsam
'When Treebeard had got a few arrows in him, he began to warm up, to get positively "hasty", as he would say. He let out a great Hoom-Hom, and a dozen more Ents came striding up.'

The second part is a paragraph with Sam, Frodo and Gollum. Who have just come out of the Dead Marshes.

Chapter; The Passage of the Marshes
Here nothing lived, not even the leprous growths that feed on rottenness. The gasping pools were choked with ash and crawling muds, sickly white and grey, as if the mountains had vomited the filth of their entrails upon the lands about. High mounds of crushed and powdered rock, great cones of earth fire-blasted and poison-stained, stood like an obscene graveyard in endless rows, slowly revealed in the reluctant light.
They had come to the desolation that lay before Mordor: the lasting monument to the dark labour of its slaves that should endure when all their purposes were made void; a land defiled, diseased beyond all healing - unless the Great Sea should enter in and wash it with oblivion. 'I feel sick,' said Sam. Frodo did not speak.
For a while they stood there, like men on the edge of a sleep where nightmare lurks, holding it off, though they know that they can only come to morning through the shadows. The light broadened and hardened. The gasping pits and poisonous mounds grew hideously clear. The sun was up, walking among clouds and long flags of smoke, but even the sunlight was defiled. The hobbits had no welcome for that light; unfriendly it seemed, revealing them in their helplessness - little squeaking ghosts that wandered among the ash-heaps of the Dark Lord.
 
 
Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Listening: Splendid - Charge | Powered by Last.fm