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The Daydream..The ocean sparkles like a floor of sunlit diamonds,
The sand soft, and bleached sugar white. Sun risen high...like a giant hole in the sky, radiating heat, and letting light into our cold dark world. Tall buildings gleam like large pillars of Ice. The ground is Dark and Cold and Worn, Cracked and Hard and Solid but Torn. THe sky is cut by wings of Matallic Birds, as the Diamonds break to reviel giant muscular masses dancing in and out of the ocean.....
.....Running down the docks, the boat awaits, bobbing in the water.
Its vast sails flap in the Autumn wind, tinted Orange by the setting Sun.
A taste for quiet has developed over time; with the lulling of the rough waters, and the soft sound of seagulls in the sky.....
..THIS is a day no True City-Goer would like.
They have learned to love a Cold, Dead world. Cement and Iron.
...But the ocean, it is so much alive, and the beach, warm. Such vast space, unlike the tiny rooms of those Icy Pillars....
Gazing out the window of the 30th floor,
The Dream..Close your eyes and imagine.
A day lying in the green grass
the bright sun warming you
A light breeze cooling you
you can smell the wild jasmine
Breath it in deeply, soothing your soul
You open your eyes and find you are on the pier,
The setting sun gazing back at you.
Looking down you see the dark swaying water...
crashing upon the pier
showering you lightly with mist
you lay down, the cold, wet cement on your back
you feel somthing under you, its a box of matches,
but it is not wet dispite being in a puddle...
You close your eyes...
The smell of saltwater filling your lungs...
Mist showereing lightly upon your face
the lulling sound of water...
your drifting away....
A bird sings and you open your eyes to find yourself
in a field of wild-flowers,
you stand and look around you,
Nohting but flowers; red, orange,pink,
yellow, blue, violet...The sweet aroma dancing
around you... Carried upon that cool summers
breeze...it seems to be pulling you onword..
You walk through the fields to a r
Inside meInside me is an ocean
an ocean of my tears
Inside me is a tree
the rings of all my years
Inside me is a car
to take me far away
Inside me is a mournful tune
that will forever play
Inside me is a fire
to keep me from the cold
Inside me is a picture
that i will always hold
Inside me is a little girl
she forever hides
Inside me is a fear
a fear taht you will lie
Inside me there is hope
Inside my heart i know,
everything will be alright.
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More