1.5M ratings
277k ratings

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
breadshaped
breadshaped

Apocalypse Now (1979) (Source)

Director: Francis Ford Coppola

More you might like

154561254-yyy-deactivated201602

Son of The Silver Seamstress

danceofthesolitaire danceofthesolitaire

I am a creature that would search all the universe for my spark. For i am lost floating amongst constellations, spiraling down cosmic steps that expand the many eyes of my mind. To expand, i must journey downward to the tryst where i am enveloped by veils of musical notes; She made me with subtle brush strokes to give me color. She played the music to form the silver linings of my spirit. For i was born amidst starlit candles with wings behind the seams of a forming verse. Where love and the sphinx were the baton conducting the fabrics of a heart so desperate to find their way down to life from the sea beyond time. 

 ©Solitaire

silver seams seamstress prose text text post literature literature rp rp oc oc rp poetry writers on tumblr writer writers poets on tumblr poet poets spilled ink writing fabric love sphinx magic magick sea space stars universe cosmos
154561254-yyy-deactivated201602

The Riddler

danceofthesolitaire danceofthesolitaire

He was born so full of light. A curious thing for beings to always expect the cunning to be dark and brooding. Yet He is bright and ruthless. He takes no sides, but plays for keeps- always. He’s never lost a fair game, nor has he played one….. ©Solitaire

story prose light character oc rp oc rp lit art text post text writers on tumblr poets on tumblr writing writer weiters poet poets fairy tale lore magic mask wisdom man men pirate game dark personal personalities
154561254-yyy-deactivated201602

As Thirst To Water

danceofthesolitaire danceofthesolitaire

I will love you, as thirst to water.

For the most precious thing in my life is love
true, loyal
and by the scars on my skin, I swear to thee my fire that will never dwindle even in the most treacherous of storms.
For my flame is all I am, and to thee I give.
When our feet rest on the moon, and the tides take us to white shores;
I will love you as thirst to water

For without you, my Love I am nothing

©Solitaire

poem poetry journal journaling spilled ink poets of tumblr writers of tumblr writer prose
154561254-yyy-deactivated201602

Advent of a Weightless Heart

danceofthesolitaire danceofthesolitaire

On a misty night, a young man sat on an open window journaling-

 It seems all the tiresome bloodshed and tears are starting to turn into a real treasure. I came here to Earth but never lost myself or the ability to see through lights, magic, and desires this world has to offer. Sadly, I have created some tethers to things that have scarred me deeply. The first key is to sever them- to feel like a feather, a weightless heart. 

Knowledge has ever been the thing I raid for, like a hungry Wolf. It is also the sword which I will use to cut and unbind myself so that I can begin to sprint across the verses. Wisdom, giving the blade an azul light to its mirror sheen edge, is what I will gain. A freedom that cannot be found except from the depths.This force is something I had to kneel down to pick up. Earth has a humbling affect. It has rough edges and tidal flames to be braved. 

Nevertheless, the Divinity of a true Empress has taught me to free myself. This is the life I never will forget. “What is true does not ever fade. True freedom is found beyond the veil,” she said. 

It took me a long time to understand why I was so different from everyone I come across- why I could never truly attach to anything down here; until I was shown who I truly was. Such a sight to behold, and yet it began to break chains just by her imparting wisdom.

It’s starting to set me free, I’m starting to flow…

©Solitaire

prose poetry journal journaling poem spilled ink writers of tumblr writer poets of tumblr
154561254-yyy-deactivated201602

Adversarial Grasp

danceofthesolitaire danceofthesolitaire

 I cannot help what I am. I stopped running from it a long time ago. I am trapped in this world, heart broken and waiting in a place that is not meant for me. I surrendered myself to forces so evil and perverse that I could not be forsaken because I have no soul to give. 

Walking among fields of her labyrinth, 

my heart began pounding trying to break from my chest. 

Heavy, frozen breath seeping from my lips, 

gnashing teeth,

 and the gaze I hold that hunts for beauty in her crimson drops.

They once thought me to come from hell beneath, but I came from the sky. A devil shroud in light thirsting to belong to a heart- to be devoted in ecstasy and a river of cycles to drown me. I could feel my grasp tightening, my flesh searing; and as the bite pierced flesh, I tasted the sweet nectar and began to spiral. Drinking harder, my body throbs and writhes violently. I am entranced. Her blood in mine, I have lost myself in her spouting cries. Beyond love and death, beyond all reason. Pressed against her essence, I am the one being taken in- like life’s fruit squeezed for its juices- becoming hers. For I am the one truly bitten. 

In trying to grab her heart, she had mine in her grasp; all the while, feeling the blood run inside. She gets inside, she makes me better than anything I have tried; it is in her lips. The blackest sea, deeper than anything I could reach. I bury my face between her valley, anointed by her flowing nectar. For not all angels are good- some are devils frothing at the chance to be drenched by the fetters of the heart. They want it with her fangs inside them, with her words in our sleep. It comes on ever so strongly, making a devil solid and binding in presence- twisted, but true. 

Newly born, sweet and pure, was the grasp for a heart…

©Solitaire

prose poetry poem spilled ink writer writers of tumblr poets of tumblr journal journaling
See this in the app Show more