As for the silences, how can silence be described in words? Only poetry can do that.
Me, messing around with ink then editing it alittle thoughts?
my painting just black ink
I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me.
- A corpse supposed, in European folklore, to leave its grave at night to drink the blood of the living by biting their necks with long…
- A person who preys ruthlessly on others.
There is no calm inside me,
And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.
Source: W. B. Yeats, from “The Wanderings of Oisin,” in The Wanderings of Oisin and Other Poems (Kegan Paul and Co., 1889)
"Have you ever asked yourself, do monsters make war, or does war make monsters?"
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