"The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise." Miguel De Cervantes
WARNING: This blog contains lots of spoilers from To Kill A Mocking bird. I suggest you read the book first, then read my opinions of it.
WARNING: This blog contains lots of spoilers from To Kill A Mocking bird. I suggest you read the book first, then read my opinions of it.
Saturday, 6 October 2012
Sunrise
A golden orb emerges from the depths of the horizon
with the promise of eternal hope, after an everlasting night of choking
darkness, with only the stars piercing the sky. It is as quiet as a butterfly beating
its delicate wings, with only the sounds of far off trees crackling and the
gentle waves lapping at the pale cliffs echoing about my ears. The audience of
this sensational scene is dormant, unaware of the flawless beauty and infrequent
stillness that surrounds them. The melody of a lone bird fills the air,
breaking the peace that envelops the world at this time. Soon the business of life
will aid this bird in its mission. Soon the tranquility of this silence will
cease to exist, defeated by the ignorance of man.
Friday, 13 July 2012
Red, White, Blue
Red, Anger. Raging socialists screaming at lifeless screens.
White, Innocence. A sickly perfect diamond choir.
Blue, Cold. Freezing spectators lining the icy waters.
Red, Passion. A baby boom 9 months after 'that amazing night with him'.
White, Cleanliness. Hundreds of volunteers slaving over endless cigarette stubs and pieces of chewing gum.
Blue, Loneliness. A solitary scottish duke, forced out of the celebrations.
Listen
A meal in the dining room. A game in the living room. The people are divided. I hear the tip-tap of dog claws on a hard wooden floor, as the small, white balls of fur run from friend to friend. A cry of uproar simultaneously sounds from both rooms. Perhaps a father has told a joke. Perhaps a game has been won and lost. Then through the din, a single melody reaches my ears. It is the smooth blues of a jazz pianist, improvising on the sleek, black piano. I lie back on my pillow and close my eyes to the beautiful music as I sink into the land of dreams.
Wednesday, 11 July 2012
Evacuee
Everywhere around me
children cried
mothers wept
Valiantly I stepped onto the station
A single tear trickled down my face
my last goodbyes
Carefully I stepped onto the steaming train
Under my shirt butterflies fluttered
Everything I ever knew
lost forever
Everyone I ever knew
never seen again
children cried
mothers wept
Valiantly I stepped onto the station
A single tear trickled down my face
my last goodbyes
Carefully I stepped onto the steaming train
Under my shirt butterflies fluttered
Everything I ever knew
lost forever
Everyone I ever knew
never seen again
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