my-distant-dreams-say - Disaster waiting to happen
Disaster waiting to happen

6 posts

THIS IS THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN

THIS IS THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN

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More Posts from My-distant-dreams-say

2 years ago

Any good resources/sites or books to practice drawing?

3 years ago

As someone who has an issue with stretch marks, I've come to terms with their distant beauty.

They're the waves of the ocean, just as much as they are cracks in the cliffs, battled by the stormy seas. Each one holds a memory of a time, place and growth long forgotten.

Learn to love even the littlest things of yourself, even if no one can see them.


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Revenge

"You, who harbour no mercy, are now for it? Monsters are not born, they are created—and I am nothing if not a product of your design. You call me twisted; how malicious must your mind be for you to have created me?"

— M.P


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3 years ago

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

image

Love as Icarus did the sun

Daedalus saw the depth of his son,

Of his love.

He was kind

And so full of life, he shone

Like the sun on the darkest of days,

The only reason to hope.

The calm before the storm,

Some called it.

The call of the void, to others.

All he knew, is that Icarus goes above and beyond—

give him an inch, and he'll take it a mile.

Icarus fell.

He was falling. Plummbeting.

Tumbling, dropping, flailing-

In laughter, he soared.

And in that moment—he was flying

Amongst the gods

And between their domains.

Punished for his father's crimes,

He longed for the freedom.

Carved into his spine

Through love and devotion.

Moulded to him

To prove the care of a parent,

Yet too much he longed

To hold that which he craved like a partner,

The burning star

Of a long overdue supernova

That ignites the sky as much as his heart.

To feel the golden rays and pink hues

Kiss his skin, wrapping him in a promising warmth.

So close, yet so far.

Too much he loved,

For his fingertips danced,

Stretched and strained, reaching

For his unrequited lover.

Apollo's love

Is fiery and scolding,

Yet Icarus loved him so.

He tried and tried,

Reached and flew,

Controlled his father's gift of

Waxed feathered wings

To lead his own demise.

When the scorching wax

Melted down his back,

Over his shoulder blades and

Into the valley of his spine,

He felt Apollo's bittersweet goodbye,

His guilty apology.

The wind of Aeolus

Tried to slow his fall, to ease his pain.

A cold breeze past his ears

To deafen his father's pained

Wails to see his son

Crashing down below Into the rockey waters-

It did nothing to hide the sons joy

Of trying to get so high;

It was only when Poseidon caught his body amongst the ocean,

To soothing the blistering caresses that Apollo

Left in his wake

To praise Icarus loving him so,

For being the most devoted follower.

Love is pain, they say.

So, love as Icarus did the sun.

—M.P


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