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#Post#: 21600--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: Clay Death Date: April 22, 2015, 10:20 am
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[URL=
HTML http://s1322.photobucket.com/user/spartacus120/media/camelot%20new-1/heart-400_zpsoi2bfefd.gif.html][IMG]http://i1322.photobucket.com/albums/u572/spartacus120/camelot%20new-1/heart-400_zpsoi2bfefd.gif[/img][/URL]
#Post#: 21889--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: StayCreepy Date: April 28, 2015, 8:49 pm
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I want you to know I want you
Who am I you make me forget
You know what I need and you give it to me
Every time we touch you send shivers down my spine
Because of you I know what it is to feel like a man
You have accepted me for who I am not who you want me to be
Understanding every ache I hold in my hand
No drugs can compare to the feeling you give me
I didn't know it was possible but you own me with the words you
say and the touch you give
It's not just a phase at least I don't see it that way
I don't know if you want me the same way but for me it's heaven
on earth I want you to stay.
#Post#: 22479--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: StayCreepy Date: May 6, 2015, 9:44 pm
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There's not a thing in this world
That can change the way I feel
Or turn away my thoughts from you my love or from this moment
steal
Because my dear, I’m yours
Until the stars are no longer shining
Until the earth no longer revolves or until this poet runs out
of threads of rhyming
It is you that have stolen my heart, my Love and
Wrapped it up with fine silver and pure gold
You laced it with precious diamonds and rare pearls
You brought it in from the bitter cold
Never can there be another love that can take your place
Your the one that put the sparkle in my eyes of blue
Touching me through time and space
You make me feel, Love, the way you do
Because, My dear, I’m yours
I always have been, and I always will
It’s just that I had to wait for your arrival,
You know....God’s will
Every night I traced your name with my fingers
Connecting Dot-to-dot, from star-to-star
And finding the bright shiny hey there you are
I know, my love, without a doubt
You are truly the one meant for me
Until the seeds can no longer sprout
Until the salt is gone from the sea
Yes! Sweet princess yes my Queen I’m yours!
Can’t you feel it in the air?
Feeling the love seeping through your pores?
Oh, My love, this type of love so very rare?
Both Our hearts in tune and will always sing
The most incredibly magical melody
Striking that one particular note, to forever ring
In the sweetest synchronicity
Because, My princess, I’m yours
And forever you are mine
Until we stand on the shores of heaven
And drink from the same cup of wine
never will I leave you, my love because
I am devoted to you until the very end
Your My heart, your my life, your my love
And your My very best eternal friend
Until the day our God calls us home
Until we reach the edge of eternity’s shores
Until Ive written the very last sweet blessed poem
My Queen,my love, and my reason to live ,I am
Forever Yours through the end of time
#Post#: 22508--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: Divine Metamorphoses Date: May 8, 2015, 2:47 am
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The joy my heart feels
Exceeds all expectations
My love is here to heal
Pain is breaking all limitations
Feel the love I am pouring out to you
Hear my words tickle your ears
Stop actually listen many a clue
I'm speaking through my tears
My love is true
It's always been so
Stop feeling blue
Allow the fire of love to glow
I only have one heart I want to hold
#Post#: 22657--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: Exotic One Date: May 11, 2015, 3:13 am
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To good
#Post#: 22867--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: StayCreepy Date: May 15, 2015, 12:38 am
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A phenomenon that a number of people have noted while in deep
depression is the sense of being accompanied by a second self —
a wraithlike observer who, not sharing the dementia of his
double, is able to watch with dispassionate curiosity as his
companion struggles against the oncoming disaster, or decides to
embrace it. There is a theatrical quality about all this, and
during the next several days, as I went about stolidly preparing
for extinction, I couldn't shake off a sense of melodrama — a
melodrama in which I, the victim-to-be of self-murder, was both
the solitary actor and lone member of the audience.
#Post#: 22959--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: Divine Metamorphoses Date: May 17, 2015, 8:17 am
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Beauty
#Post#: 22962--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: Divine Metamorphoses Date: May 17, 2015, 8:19 am
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Beauty
#Post#: 22991--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: Divine Metamorphoses Date: May 17, 2015, 7:19 pm
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See her heart
#Post#: 23025--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hypnotic Heart By Creepy
By: StayCreepy Date: May 18, 2015, 9:50 am
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From the vast, invisible ocean of moonlight overhead fell, here
and here, a slender, broken stream that seemed to plash against
the intercepting branches and trickle to earth, forming small
white pools among the clumps of laurel. But these leaks were few
and served only to accentuate the blackness of his environment,
which his imagination found it easy to people with all manner of
unfamiliar shapes, menacing, uncanny, or merely grotesque.
He to whom the portentous conspiracy of night and solitude and
silence in the heart of a great forest is not an unknown
experience needs not to be told what another world it all is -
how even the most commonplace and familiar objects take on
another character. The trees group themselves differently; they
draw closer together, as if in fear. The very silence has
another quality than the silence of the day. And it is full of
half-heard whispers, whispers that startle - ghosts of sounds
long dead. There are living sounds, too, such as are never heard
under other conditions: notes of strange night birds, the cries
of small animals in sudden encounters with stealthy foes, or in
their dreams, a rustling in the dead leaves - it may be the leap
of a wood rat, it may be the footstep of a panther. What caused
the breaking of that twig? What the low, alarmed twittering in
that bushful of birds? There are sounds without a name, forms
without substance, translations in space of objects which have
not been seen to move, movements wherein nothing is observed to
change its place. Ah, children of the sunlight and the gaslight,
how little you know of the world in which you live! ("A Tough
Tussle")
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