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helplessIf I were perfect, you'd never cry
there'd be no tears, no silver trails
My hands would never have to dry
your shaking body, cold and frail
"Why," I bitterly choke aloud
after shutting closed the phone
Why am I here crying now
In the cold outside, alone
When I gently questioned you
asked if you would be alright
My sense of desperation grew
you said "I'll have to be, tonight"
Have I really done
all that I can do?
I've already failed some
now will I fail you?
It's so cold out here tonight
so small under the sky
The full moon at its bright full height
Teary stars inside my eyes
I want to see your smile
It's getting too cold for me to take.
Cut off from myself, stranded out here on this desolate winter road.
The snow gently falls around me as I stare at the wreckage of the wall.
A torn and battered barrier, what was once a gate of passage.
It burns steadily now, tiny flames amidst the ruin.
I don't want to ever go back to that place.
And yet I cannot stay out.
For if I do...I will surely go insane.
For in there, past the wreckage and barriers, is me.
I cannot separate myself from myself.
And yet I sit here, crying in the road still.
A stray child in the snow.
Others pass freely, turning a blind eye.
I stifle my crying as they walk by.
They wish only to help themselves.
Oh how weary this world has made me.
A world where ambition is made out of money, power, and fame.
Where lust replaces all with its choking aura.
No longer love.
No longer safety.
Only in few could I ever find that.
But still I cry.
And even in your arms I continue crying, louder as you drift thro
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More