ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
literature
Half-opened Gates.
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Memories live in a bittersweet graveyard, they say. One procession, with joyfully mournful hymns, with prayers and with tears. And then it’s time to kiss the grave goodbye. It’s time to release the pure-black balloon and let the wind carry it far from your reach.
(that's just the way it’s supposed to be.)
When you put the past behind, you can begin to hand-build a paradise.
(on the edge of a road.)
holding life close, breathing on cherished time.
And that’s what we did, me and you.
Flowery dresses, mingled perfumes and giggles.
(mockingbirds in the wind.)
But I lied when I told you I had shut the gates of the graveyard.
And sometimes I slip in.
And when I put my hand on the graves, I can feel something faint- almost like a heartbeat.
(how do you bury something that isn’t dead yet?)
You laugh your vanilla laugh.
Childhood memories are nothing to be afraid of, you tell me. Coffee flavoured tobacco in a rainbow sky, goodnight kisses and innocent sunsets under the luminescent sky.
(but what about the stormy wishes and fiery dreams?)
(that's just the way it’s supposed to be.)
When you put the past behind, you can begin to hand-build a paradise.
(on the edge of a road.)
holding life close, breathing on cherished time.
And that’s what we did, me and you.
Flowery dresses, mingled perfumes and giggles.
(mockingbirds in the wind.)
But I lied when I told you I had shut the gates of the graveyard.
And sometimes I slip in.
And when I put my hand on the graves, I can feel something faint- almost like a heartbeat.
(how do you bury something that isn’t dead yet?)
You laugh your vanilla laugh.
Childhood memories are nothing to be afraid of, you tell me. Coffee flavoured tobacco in a rainbow sky, goodnight kisses and innocent sunsets under the luminescent sky.
(but what about the stormy wishes and fiery dreams?)
Galerie DreamUp
Accès à la seule galerie générée par IA.
Access to the last gallery, which is the only one 'AI generated'
$10/month
Suggested Collections
How can you let go of the past,
when your past defines you?
It's a thought I've always had. Without the past, we are not us. We are born as empty canvases, and the rest of the world paints us and those paintings become us.
when your past defines you?
It's a thought I've always had. Without the past, we are not us. We are born as empty canvases, and the rest of the world paints us and those paintings become us.
© 2009 - 2024 Unbiased--Opinion
Comments84
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
oh my gosh! your so right! why are people so desperate to forget the past when the past is the reason they are them?
it's beautiful! (:
it's beautiful! (: