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The Painted BrideA tear born in the eye, dies on the lips. Silhouettes dance on the lucid ceiling, Grey laughing shadows echoing in a silver room, Making a song that The Bride cannot sing. She is alone. Her dress lay like a cloud upon the sky, Endless untouched beauty in white ripples and infinite curves, Spilling onto the dark empty floor, melting into a blank canvas. Each warm memory gave turn to each warm tear.The Painted Bride
A tear born in the eye, lives on the cheek. A dress so white, ready for colour. A day so black, ready to end.
How did this happen? Two strangers alone with t
by ~blibblobblib
Shinyby ~blibblobblib
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Essex
- Interests: Writing, Films, Photography, Friends, Working Out and People
- Favourite movie: At the moment I *heart* Huckabee's
- Favourite band or musician: Lots and Lots. Basement Jaxx, Nora Jones, Etta James, Scissor Sisters, Razor Light etc
- Favourite genre of music: Anything but hard house and trance, Far too bangy.
- Favourite artist: The Deviant ones...
- Favourite poet or writer: H G Wells, Rudyard Kipling, F Scott Fitzgerald and Remarque
- Favourite style of art: Photography
- MP3 player of choice: i to the Pod
- Favourite game: Half Life 2
- Favourite gaming platform: PS2
- Favourite cartoon character: Daffy Duck
- Tools of the Trade: The Pen
- MSN: blibblobblib@hotmail.com
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