One night.
One night can change everything.
One night can rip apart all the carefully knitted fabric that holds you together, that has taken you years to weave into your life, into irreparable pieces.
One night can set off the wheels of imagination, that with the right momentum, will carry you to people and places you've never heard of.
One night can consume you, strip you naked and flog you through the streets like a crazed leper, with the eyes of the uncaring on you, until you scream for death.
One night can give you a glimpse of worlds that only exist for a split second in your mind, and tunnels of sight and sound that echo for weeks,
A Salute To Dead Heroes by Adrenochrome42, literature
Literature
A Salute To Dead Heroes
The Rain patters on our old tin roof. A song plays, and I think of the Dead.
The brilliance lost on the souls that now fly, winged, into the abyss.
Their flash of existence resonates in the air around me - I feel their presence. But this isn't enough.
Some old books, some relics from an age I wasn't a part of. A photo, a movie clip, a scratched record. Partial representation of one so emotional, one so intelligent, one so reserved.
Make do with a ghost. The past is gone. The past is gone. Come the future. Come the new Heroes.
But no.
These are not our Heroes of the past. These are imitations - puppets - Dogs on a master's leash.
Give m
The Flame burns, the Flame warms.
The Flame you love, that claws out at you when you venture too near, the Flame that chills you to the deepest flesh in its absence.
The Flame of bright blue, dark purple, glowing orange. The Flame of the beautiful, the Flame of the deadly.
Tame that fire and you no longer love it, let it burn out and you no longer love anything. And when it's lost?
Do you have the courage, the ability, the luck to put the right match to your soul, shield it from the wind till it catches, put it to the ground and relight the ashes? Would it still warm you?
Or would time and cold finally eat away that part of you that stil
One night.
One night can change everything.
One night can rip apart all the carefully knitted fabric that holds you together, that has taken you years to weave into your life, into irreparable pieces.
One night can set off the wheels of imagination, that with the right momentum, will carry you to people and places you've never heard of.
One night can consume you, strip you naked and flog you through the streets like a crazed leper, with the eyes of the uncaring on you, until you scream for death.
One night can give you a glimpse of worlds that only exist for a split second in your mind, and tunnels of sight and sound that echo for weeks,
A Salute To Dead Heroes by Adrenochrome42, literature
Literature
A Salute To Dead Heroes
The Rain patters on our old tin roof. A song plays, and I think of the Dead.
The brilliance lost on the souls that now fly, winged, into the abyss.
Their flash of existence resonates in the air around me - I feel their presence. But this isn't enough.
Some old books, some relics from an age I wasn't a part of. A photo, a movie clip, a scratched record. Partial representation of one so emotional, one so intelligent, one so reserved.
Make do with a ghost. The past is gone. The past is gone. Come the future. Come the new Heroes.
But no.
These are not our Heroes of the past. These are imitations - puppets - Dogs on a master's leash.
Give m
The Flame burns, the Flame warms.
The Flame you love, that claws out at you when you venture too near, the Flame that chills you to the deepest flesh in its absence.
The Flame of bright blue, dark purple, glowing orange. The Flame of the beautiful, the Flame of the deadly.
Tame that fire and you no longer love it, let it burn out and you no longer love anything. And when it's lost?
Do you have the courage, the ability, the luck to put the right match to your soul, shield it from the wind till it catches, put it to the ground and relight the ashes? Would it still warm you?
Or would time and cold finally eat away that part of you that stil
You won't know me, but I've been in and out of this place in several different forms since at least 2005. DeviantART has been a large part of my life in both a creative capacity and for meeting a lot of special people.
I like to think of myself as a writer primarily, a photographer secondarily, in descending order of ability.
Current Residence: Melbourne, Hyperspace deviantWEAR sizing preference: Extra Sausage Favourite genre of music: *see Interests Wallpaper of choice: A cat sitting on a guitar :3 Personal Quote: An unlit cigarette lasts forever.
Favourite Movies
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Way to many to count
Favourite Writers
Hunter S Thompson
Favourite Gaming Platform
PC
Tools of the Trade
Camera and Mind
Other Interests
I'm willing to give anything a fair chance to hold my attention