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Stranger.You hold me close,
Tell me everything will be fine.
You hold my hand,
And tell me you'll never let go.
You kiss my cheek,
And call me beautiful.
You kiss my forehead,
And tell me I'm the one.
Your hand slips out of mine,
As I try to hold on tight.
Your arms drop to your side,
Leaving me standing on my own.
You let me in,
Then pushed me out.
You said you loved me,
Then told me I wasn't the one.
Take my hand now,
Before you push me further.
Tell me what you think,
Because I don't want to hold hands with a stranger.
You, of all the people.You, of all the people,
Who I loved the most.
Dares to just leave me,
As simply as a book being closed.
You, of all the people,
Who always got me through the night.
Will now just walk away,
Without even a fight.
You, of all the people,
Who told me to be strong.
Watches me breaking down,
As I wait till you're gone.
You of all the people,
Who always told me to be brave.
Stands now in front of me,
Digging my final resting place.
Faith.Faith is just a small word.
But is great in strength and meaning.
Faith is like a stone built wall,
On which we do our leaning.
Faith is just believing,
Not to question or to doubt.
Faith is putting trust in things,
When things just don't work out.
Faith is like a gleam of hope,
When all around is bleak.
Faith is sacred as a word,
Which all the wise men speak.
Faith is something precious,
But is not a costly fee.
For faith is just a small word,
But of life, it is the key.
The Parlour IncidentOne day in July, I believe it was, I found myself sitting with several acquaintances in Christopher's parlour. It was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons which only the summer in her full glory can bring. The room had a wan, listless light to it, relaxing the other guests and myself as we languidly chatted over tea and crumpets. The air was also sluggishly heavy, dulling the senses to a slowly-blended calm engendered by the heat of St. Othniel's southerly climate.
At length, after much stimulating conversation, Christopher stood, producing a book of sheet music.
"What do you all say to a bit of music?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered.
"Oh yes, please do darling!" Tabitha exclaimed, "he's quite the maestro."
Christopher laughed, shaking his head.
"Now, now love, I'd not go that far."
He strode over to the piano as the other guests urged him on. Ida entered the room bearing a merrily steaming teapot and more crumpets.
"More tea sirs?" she inquired, shooting sideways glances at her
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More