its the one that ive tried to write over and over again
im awake in the infinite cold
but you sing to me over and over again
so i lay my head back down
and i lift my hands
and pray to be only yours
i pray to be only yours
i know now youre my only hope
sing to me the song of the stars
of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again
when it feels like my dreams are so far
sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again. digigglez | 1/10/03
it's all over...everything's going down....it cannot be stopped...whatever symbols of invulnerability had existed were now gone...all of it was now in the past...a new age has come among...catalysed by none other than the enemies among us, within us...the supercritical mass had been there all along...and now it has burst into colored flames of red and blue...what will become of the kind souls caught by the erupting fire?...the massive energy, all released at once...shall i run into the flames?... armodons | 4/15/02
"Friendship often ends in love; but love in friendship - never." -Charles Caleb Colton
In the aging pandemonium around, I hear a single sweet voice, a sound beautiful as song, a singing tune, an age-old melody that will live forever in my heart, if not foremost in my mind. It is this voice that stands out among all others, that punches through the chaos and makes the world seem fine, for just that second. Then hell turns loose... armodons | 4/16/02
Over there was the most perplexing of them all. For the moment he just sat. He simply gaped ahead. It was hard to determine what he really saw, whether it was the distant past or the near future, or perhaps he really saw the present in all its different shades of color. He stared at that which so recently had been his, that which had stood for all that was right with the world, all his dreams, all his fantasies, but no longer. And so he looked onward, hoping that the past may repeat, hoping that he would wake up from a dream, hoping that it would all come back to him, even while knowing that it would not. He was motionless and expressionless, or at least he tried to be. It was those eyes, those unmoving, unwavering eyes. They were locked completely in place by a force of will and they glistened. In it, one could see a different story. It told of a world falling apart, one degenerating into oblivion. In his eyes one could observe a slight gleam. A drop of moisture welled up as he all this. It dripped past his face, but it was not visible to the eye, for its course lay inside of him, piercing his hollow heart as traveled. The primal emotions coursed through him, and he only stared with a deeper sense of longing. armodons | 3/10/02
