God Fearing Man Tear at the marvel of worlds ripped asunder. Why, my love? Within voids of emptiness and the promise of God shall I meet the man in White. - Stephen Reyes
Tag: creative
Sweetheart
Sweetheart That door is haunted. If you leave, you can never return. Is that what you want? To leave? How should I interpret your answer, when you face away, in silence? Are you pondering our memories, the times we shared, the promises made, and the warmth that I gave? Or are you thinking of that … Continue reading Sweetheart
Seventh Seal
I will find you somewhere in the past and love you again and witness your black halo Ah, my dearest angel. Sing me to heaven. - F H Hakansson
Back from England & Other news!
As you might have guessed - I'm back from England. I really wish my visit there had to do with me finding an agent but that is not the case. I went there to have fun and celebrate one of my friends (she turned 22). Now that I'm back I'm processing all the feedback I've … Continue reading Back from England & Other news!
Babylon
There they stood, the man containing the Core of the universe and the man dressed in white showing but one inhumane eye, gazing upon the rising tower of metal. The pinnacle of man's race - When the sun rose to wake another day they were gone, gone without a trace Babylon, craving in lucidity Babylon, … Continue reading Babylon
1.
Free Free The Fire is Free - F H Hakansson
A diamond in the pigsty.
A diamond in the pigsty. Many would rummage and sniff about you but found nothing but a peculiar rock. Yet you remained there. To be touched. And tainted. I had to polish the grim surface to find you. I pray that from now on the only reflection I see in you is my own. - F H … Continue reading A diamond in the pigsty.
ONCE
ONCE Mother's voice calls me to come back to sleep in her arms and experience youth - F H Hakansson
Dance
Dance, my Wretched Queen. Sing the songs of oppression and tug the chain around my neck. - F H Hakansson
Lost
Lost We love the night Oh, the dancing fool bordering oblivion, pushing her up on her toes, balancing on the silver line between truth and fiction. Tonight is dark. Do these beings crawl here before we die? - F H Hakansson
F. H. Hakansson 