This story is all about life's simplicity that is often hidden in towards ever awake world .

‪BOHEMIA 🌷🌼‬ ‪An abstraction of creativity. ‬ ‪Deeply rooted in the harrowing aspects of the human condition, my twelfth poetry collection, 'BOHEMIA' is a darker yet stark, poetic exploration of nature versus nurture through a poetry collection rife in love, loneliness, trauma and grief. ‬ Bohemia is a landscape; be it physical or emotional. Bohemia is a world where love goes to die only to be born again on Earth. Bohemia is a cityscape where sadness crystallises and transforms into a kind of happiness; to shed light back on Earth. There is a sense of hope rooted in the soils of Bohemia. It's up to you to find it. 🌺⛅️

My mind flows away as the nightingales brings peacefulness in the air...

"would that i, devil am i, made so as not to cry in the wailing of soil? devil am i, destined to pry decaying hands of the wrought and coiled? the howling hymn of her grievances mourning, soiled love by the free, "call on me, sweet lover in me, the temptress of man's calamity" she cries the diatribe of unshakable pride in which: creation lies in the heart of the indivine 'fie! god is dead and love is real' the howl of your temptress did reveal." The hymn of Eyre: The story of a young woman named Eyre who lives in a tight and hyper religious town set in the 1920s.. Centering around her struggle with Nihilism and her breaking away from her abusive occultist upbringing.. Set in motion upon her secret and tender friend ship with a Native American woman, a Moonshiner during prohibition, the relationship with the foreign "criminal" breaks her out of her communitarian imposes shackles, showing her for the first time what its like to feel genuine love.. until it all changes: As a physical beast in the woods that mirrors her intrusive thoughts comes to life, it threatens the life of the person she loves and guards the people she so desperately tries to break free from. The emergence of a beast of which fights to survive as humanity fights to live. The parasitic death of infancy and the decaying old. The ebb of what's left of them and their transcendence into writhing martyrs of God. And her dissension from them. The hymn of Eyre as she cries the power of knowing

porque eu sempre fui tanto arte quanto a infinidade dos números.

𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞. alguns poemas, textos, pensamentos e até sonhos. nada demais porém escrito com todo coração.

palavras amontoadas, dores e pedacinhos de uma alma transtornada e perdida. 171030 01:01 am em andamento satanicjk.

"eighteen ninety-one" is the real declaration of anguish, a cry for a time not lived, a desire to escape the real world. ~ As the tale begins, there's a young lady who is at one of the many opium dens of the 1890s London, places that she names "houses of the holy". She glimpses her companions inside their illusions, but she is not immediately numbed, she seems to be far more alive than those alongside her. But, she starts a journey through time and finds herself in more than a thousand years back in time, inside a land she calls "the hidden island of mist" (the island of Avalon). Her downfall, her descent into madness, is solely her return to the real world. Was it all just the effect of the opium, a hallucination, or a signal, a message from a former life?

pieces of myth and fairytale

A selection of love letters, diary entries, prose, poetry and fragments of writing. "I find you where there might have once been a horizon, smudged between the esoteric press of lips and folding of hands; I find you in the immemorial gasp between birdsong and silence; I find you where the flowers bend."