bright star, you are shining sadness

Cleora 2022-04-23 07:04:50

Salute, to all the beautiful sensual experiences that occurred, in cause of the characteristic triggering points in react to the source.

I am accustomed to the sensational background music and sophisticated editing, every minute and every second is based on the analyzed audience psychology. The scene is so gorgeous. And their stories give you a devouring truth. Infiltrate your nerves, infiltrate your life.

I had my doubts, I have my doubt, for the truth of everything.
Fail to believe, and struggling to.

It must be beautiful , to be with a poet, who has a beautiful and exquisite mind and still luckily blessed with a capability to present it on paper or in breeze.

Tranquil, fuss-free, steadfast , and boiling ,
love, live as it's meant to be.
But is this meant to be?
I only know I'd love it to be.
Yet I'm too doubtful to see it in a way that'll set me free.

The ages seem often disagree, and degrade these nowadays Greats into weeds.
Mass tastes shaped and infected by the we.
So unmercifully hampered them to be in glee.
When ages change and them poor thing fall into history,
After follows the swirling drowning massive worship .
Peace at last, last, in peace.

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Extended Reading
  • Ally 2022-03-28 09:01:13

    Why is there an orgasm! ! ! ! ! ! !

  • Fabian 2022-03-18 09:01:09

    Poetry is born with emotion

Bright Star quotes

  • [first lines between major players]

    [general chatter]

    Mrs. Brawne: Hello, Joy.

    Dilke Maid: Hello.

    Mrs. Brawne: Is all well?

    Dilke Maid: Very good, thank you.

  • [last lines before credits]

    Fanny Brawne: [speaking Keat's poem Bright Star] Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art - / Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night / And watching, with eternal lids apart, / Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, / The moving waters at their priestlike task / Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, / Or gazing on the new soft-fallen masque / Of snow upon the mountains and the moors - / No - yet still stedfast, still unchangeable / Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, / To feel for ever its soft swell and fall, / Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, / Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, / And so live ever - or else swoon to death.