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Friends.Friends in life,
they come and go.
Intentions of staying?
we do not know.
Kind and caring,
loving and fun.
All are traits,
we search for in one.
We live to love.
And love to live.
With plenty more,
that we can give.
You are you.
And I am me.
we can be.
Oh Father, PleaseI have written this dad,
Especially for you,
I hope that you can see this war through.
I do hope you're fine, coz I am too,
And without you, I don't know what to do.
I shall call this the Wirrawee war,
They shan't kill you, that I am sure.
BANG, KABOOM!! The rifles sound.
Hide, till you are safe or found.
This is unfair, foolish and not right,
They are prepared and ready to fight.
They will come out late at night,
So prime and robust without a light.
Oh father, please stay safe,
So I am not left as an orphaned waif.
Oh, how I'll keep my faith in you,
Oh father please, till this war is through.
That One Fateful NightOn that one fateful night,
Everything was alight.
The trees were burnt black,
With no time to pack,
There just was no turning back.
Screaming and hollering for help, from the unlucky lads.
Gone was everything we ever had.
After the fire ripped through,
All was lost, except my love for you.
As we lay homeless, under the worriless stars,
I think of how lucky, you and I both are.
On that fateful night,
We had put up our fight.
Yes, we did survive,
And did with a stronger relationship,
Than anyone ever could revive.
The Devil's Blazing GameWith no warning,
It took everything in its path,
With no mercy for destruction,
Victoria was heading downhill,
I can't even see the bonnet of my own car,
Let alone know,
Whether my wheels are spinning in a ditch,
Or firmly planted on the road.
I just wanted to get my pets and kids to safety.
The following morning was gloomy, with sorrow in the air,
As we were told the remains of everything we had.
Black bare mountains,
Large rubble piles which were once our lives.
Just memories in our heads remain.
Nothing survived the rage of the Victorian fire.
We took it as it came.
Leaving our lives in the balance of the Devil's Blazing Game.
You Didn't Have to GoYour lights were as bright as a shooting star,
Your sky was as black as the devils retreat,
Your mailbox was paralysed,
On the side of the street,
And your trees were as high as Mt. Everest,
Your clouds were as white as falling snow,
That would never melt away,
They were as fluffy as sheep's wool,
Ready to be shorn that day.
Your image was as beautiful,
As a budding rose,
You were ready to be picked,
But went away and froze.
You Mean the World to MeYou Mean the World to Me
You are like a shooting star,
Bright, glowing and fun,
You mean the world to me,
But to you that may not be.
You are the stem,
And I'm the droopy bud,
Not knowing what to do,
So you guided me through.
Friendly is what I see,
But others think that wrong,
You are the rose of my life,
But when I wasn't around,
You stabbed me with a knife.
Now you are demeaning,
And to me you are untrue,
All you are is a lonely star,
That's sitting in an empty jar.
You mean nothing to me,
So I have to say goodbye,
We might see each other again,
If my wish upon you,
Follows through and really does come true.
That way then not only me,
But everyone else will see,
How great a person,
You really can be.
AerosolIt has been a day and a half since the crash, and I have found a cabin. In some ways, this is a relief. I don’t know if I could face another night on the mountain without shelter. Outside, a fire does no good: the heat simply travels upwards. However, this place also raises some difficult questions. I estimate that I’ve put eight miles between myself and the crash site. I don’t know if this will be enough. It Saving...
occurs to me that I don’t really know anything.
The survival manual recommends staying with the plane. It explains that this affords the best chance of rescue. It explains that the wreckage offers warmth and shade. It explains that seventy percent of pilots who stay are located within three days, while seventy percent of those who leave are
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More