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Belle of the bay: PoemUpon the cliffs of the magnificent ore lies a small community with a past as bright as the sea. Mine shafts dug further then the eye can see illustrating a past that ceases to be. Miners still roam the streets as ghostly apparitions of a time now dead. But the sun still sets in the west the same as it always did, harmonizing together the sky of Orange, yellow, and red. The Ferry crosses the tickle bringing us home, and taking us away. Through rain and shine, wind and calm, the ferry travels everyday. Blessed are we to say we live here, blessed are those who can say they have seen the Belle of the bay. Bell Island is a home to everyone, welcoming all to the green and red Island paradise. Ships sail, and mines dig, known for our history with the iron ore mines and the second world war. Come on over, we'll welcome anyone who knocks at our door. Go for a drive, the seaman's memorial, the town of Wabana, our historical lighthouse, we have so much to offer you. With hiking trails, and plenty
Death's songdeath lies in amoung the headstones,
lighting the names of the soul-less
shells beneath the Earth. Oh how
we the livig weep as our loved ones
lie in decay for the remainder of
eternity. Earth has no place for them
in this world, but we live in hope that
another world has accepted them
gratefully, but we the living will never
know, not until we are apart of the
dead,then we are living no more.
So our voiceless souls sing a song
to the world we left behind. Don't
cry of us, we are at peace, for death
is easier then life. The easiest part
of living is when you are not
living at all
Sexual DesireYour hand strokes my leg, making me tremble in delight.
I feel my body go numb in all the right areas.
You giggle at my reaction, my violent pleasure.
I feel it in my body, I'm craving a touch, a womans touch.
You rub my back, your cold hands are such a thrill.
I moan slightly, wishing we were completely alone.
I try to be civil, and polite, but I want to touch you.
I watch your breast rise with your breathing,
my heart begins to race, I feel so frustrated.
My mind races, all the things I could do, I could
pleasure you, make you feel beautiful.
You touch me in areas very few can touch,
I don't mind, I like your gentle strokes.
I hate these clothes, they are damned to my body.
I would take them off if the time were appropriate.
My clothes are the least of my worries,
your tight fitting shirt clings to your
beautiful body like a structural masterpiece.
Your pants, ripped and thin show off your
legs like pillars of pure desire.
I understand why any man would look at you,
I can see your be
Lights of the Ocean soulThe light was spinning in a constant circle
hitting of the trees, lighting up the night.
We searched the side of the cliff, the four
of us, for a creature, long gone, but not
forgotten. Nothing could we find, nothing
concrete. But the waves below said
differently. The sounds of their whispers.
"Falling...machinery." Was caught in our
ears. Then the image of two objects falling
over the cliff. It kept repeating itself, so far
down, disappear, and start again. Then,
occassionally the sound of something hitting
the water, one thing lighter then the one
after it... Falling...Machinery. But on the other
side of the cliff, something was different, two
sorrowful, loving orbs lit on the water. Right
away one of us knew them, knew just who
they were, the souls of the men that
died last year. But after we left the strange
occurrances didn't stop. We were all there,
no one could get through to us who were not
involved, and a picture, drawn of the situation
days before it happened. We were meant t
Be MyselfI sit here waiting for someone to respond to me.
Ignored everytime, but I still want more.
I'm tired of being what you want me to be.
Everytime I try to enter you slam the door.
I feel lost in this world, but I don't expect you to care.
I know I'm not alone, but I need a friend.
You've abandoned me, left me floating in the air.
I starting to really notice the trend.
I can be ignored because I'm not enough.
I can be ignored because I'm not the best.
You don't care that my life can be tough.
ou make this life tough, give it a rest.
I bleed from the tears you make me cry.
I can't call you a friend, all you do is hurt me.
One day, someday, My heart will die.
Then I am gone, forever, No more I will be.
Feel free to pretend Its not about you.
I think you understand the anger inside.
Its always you, everything I do, is everything you do.
But you could care less how many times I've cried.
So this is my goodbye to the mirror I see.
This is goodbye to a friend no longer here.
This is goodbye to
Sanguine Mist of never ending bliss covered by
the clouds that surround us in a dome. Spirals
of winds and rain swarm the rock in the middle
of the puddle, it screams to us, "I'm here, I'm
angry." his anger forces us to take cover in our
warm homes as his rage surpasses the rage of
the last anger infested wench. Murderous rage,
homocidal rage, he took his knife and hit the
pavement, crashing it into the puddle that
surrounds it, human flesh follow it to its doom.
You think you can waltz in here and take lives,
take nature and put in on a violent fury? Your
actions are harsh, you've reduced us to fear.
Will our homes fall down around us? Will we be
reduced to back to the stone age, no power,
electricity dead in the sea with your victum.
Yes, we can handle your rage, we have handled
rage such as yours in the past, but we have
the right to worry, we have to right to
stand up to this, anyone who thinks differently
can leave, they are not true, they don't und
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More