By: Oscar Wilde
Tread lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.
All her bright golden hair
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust.
Lily-like, white as snow,
She hardly knew
She was a woman, so
Sweetly she grew.
Coffin-board, heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone,
She is at rest.
Peace, peace, she cannot hear
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life’s buried here,
Heap earth upon it.
Source: on-melancholy-hill02
HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! I HOPE IT IS EXTRA SPOOKY THIS YEAR.
The Girl With Many Eyes by Tim BurtonOne day in the park
I had quite a surprise.
I met a girl
who had many eyes.She was really quite pretty
(and also quite shocking!)
and I noticed she had a mouth,
so we ended up talking.We talked about flowers,
and her poetry classes,
and the problems she’d have
if she ever wore glasses.It’s great to know a girl
who has so many eyes,
but you really get wet
when she breaks down and cries.
Her skin is white cloth,
and she’s all sewn apart
and she has many colored pins
sticking out of her heart.She has many different zombies
who are deeply in her trance.
She even has a zombie
who was originally from France.But she knows she has a curse on her,
a curse she cannot win.
For if someone gets
too close to her,the pins stick farther in.
My name is Eleanor, I'm 20
