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Sorrowful Symphony
"If you could travel back into time and speak with yourself just one time, what would you say?

If it were me, it'd probably be; thank you, and I'm sorry. Know that I'm sorry because I have not become the great man you envisioned yourself to be. I'll make mistakes that shouldn't have happened, lose people that shouldn't have gone- fall in love with faces I should've forgotten. I'm sorry, I'll crush your heart then scatter the pieces across the earth so you'll struggle to trust and love again. I will torture you more terribly than any villain, and drag you over oceans and mountains. Into battles I will scar and strip your ability to see the difference between right and wrong. 

I'm sorry you won't see mom anymore, all because of me. I won't be able to protect you from the impending weight of destruction and failure. I'll be too weak to stand back up, too afraid to try harder. I miss you- or me- or whoever it is that was once pure and full of possibilities. If I told you that I was afraid to meet you, would you believe me?

But thank you, for trying harder than I could ever muster. For being more brave and honest than I could ever honor. Thank you for smiling and failing over- and over, never giving up on yourself when heaven seemed further. Cherish your mother, and be careful when you run- you'll trip over your tails and get scolded."
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I wanted your true heart
With the gentle waft of wind to boot, subtle raindrops fluttered down exposed spots of my skin similar to a curious butterfly with nonexistent attachment. It hovered down my flushed cheeks, cascading with a ticklish touch. Like gemstones they rolled in shiny and delicate beads; where one was never the same from the last, each had a unique shape and cut. 

Was it the oddly placed sunshine that fought cloudburst or the warm drizzle discretely staining my cheeks; I couldn't help but wonder between quiet inhales, which was blinding my eyes tight? Each breathe that carried down my throat meant an aching throat and clamped chest, they hit me like a paining obsession that thrived off my existence. 

You once told me that you weren't afraid of the storm, because underneath it's gray skies was a chance for hidden release which no one could ever suspect; unless they stood right besides your face. The puddled earth became your bedroom of comfort as you could walk through it's streets and inhale scents mingled of enlivened trees and water down cobble. No one would notice. Tears didn't have to spill from your heart in order to bring you ease, because heaven's tears were enough.

I wonder, how much times have you hid your tears and suppressed your cries for help from me? 

I felt silly as my colorful umbrella which seemed more pastel than it really was, due to sunlight, begun to tip off my shoulder, as my fingers made it's way to shield the prickly feeling of the rain- as I prayed to no one in particular, for my heart to reach yours. I felt silly as a sudden puff of wind ruffled through my hair the way your cold fingers would, and I told the quiet of my mind that no one could match up to that soothing sensation you brought. I felt silly as warmth rolled down my cheeks because it was no longer from nature's arrangement of a tingling shower. I felt silly because I begun crying in the rain.

A sliver of sunshine that crawled it's way through my lashes had me hopeful of a time where you would be more kind to yourself- more loving, and more carefree. Like the warm droplets that rained down without any feeling of regret- without any certainty of a safe landing, I hoped someday you'll trust me with your true self; the one which was raw- exposed, and fragile. How silly do you think I felt, when I told myself that I wanted your true heart? 


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“This,
—is Oblivion.”

A short writing speculating one's last breathe.


Thin strands of droplets wet the earth far outside wide pellucid glass panes to my right. Each second ticking on the thin arm of the wall-clock pulled a ribbon of showers beneath a dull, nondescript overcast blanket of exhaust smoke, joined into one continuous stretch that sheltered the earth as a recognized ceiling. My muffled ears chime into the toneless orchestra of nature’s tears. Winter is coming to a final end. The earth is tucking away it's gentle vanilla coating above it’s once flaunted greenery. Soon to stain the bleak outdoors I long to wander soon, would be florals of diverse coloration. Beneath a chest in my mind composed of aged experiences and framed memories, they bud and they bloom. Within this moment of translucent emotions, a part of my decelerating heartbeat wonders when I will pluck the blossoming land once again. Lilies—I want lilies. I wish to inhale the fresh scent of it’s budding innocence that carries this melancholic nostalgia I would sometimes taste in the sweet treat gifted to me on the second month of a new year. Chocolates. 

Folded between unpleasant seams; soaked in acidic hospital fragrances, a stuttering pang I take minimal notice of escapes my parted lips. Evacuated emotions slumbered beneath my parents eyes meet my numbing figure. From the pits of my voiding disposition, I find my final wish to be that an etched smile will give them the understanding relief that I will soon be sleeping—at last. However, their evident frowns say otherwise. A frigid clutch embraces my frail bones moments before my parents could reach me; my best friend's arms. Soft whispers breathe into the space between his face and my ear. Though, I can barely make out what he's trying to tell me. 'Don't go' was it? I'm confused. Don't go, where? His hold becomes stronger, and I respond. Though, I can't exactly hear what sentences my moving lips are managing to form.

Squeaking across the soiled tiles, approaching the wrinkled side of my cramped bed, precarious footsteps; cloaked in fear. Despite each inching second which carries the two who've cared for me since I was a pitiful child, in closer proximity to me, their presence seems to become less prominent in effect. Unrealized eternal rest embraces my withering soul and washes away my fifteen years of lonesomeness with delicate contact, just as the rain washes the earth. My parents must've been notified by the hospital of my decaying state, for they weren’t here just a few hours earlier—or the day before, neither a week. Rather they were working, as I was dying. Don't misunderstand, I'm not bitter. I don't think. However, there are a number of stories I wish to tell my mother; from the kindhearted nurse who brought me delicious foods, to the sweet feathered creature which sang to me on sunny mornings. Along with it were the many lame jokes I'd created as I listened to the emptiness of my room. I would give anything to see my father throw his head back and laugh at the horridness of them. I know they aren't funny; but that's the kind of father he is. 

A warm breathe, full of suppressed emotions trickle down my neck. Why is it he's trying so hard to be strong? Emptiness and nonchalance sweeps over my face as the realization of the moment gradually seeps in. Fear seems to rise behind my eyes. Like a caged animal, I lay. In my best friend's arms, paralyzed by my tragic terror of isolation, I close my eyes and blink into a stretch of nothingness. Warmth threatens to curl out of my lids, and I can't understand why I force them not to stream. A soft voice I forget to recognize echoes, 

"I will die." 

Who is it? Was it such a quiet whisper not even my parents and best friend could react? Maybe they're too exhausted to react. Yes, that must be it. It's a familiar voice, however. Or perhaps it is familiar because it's a whisper from a fading space of my mind which kept me up many nights prior. Could it be—am I dying? It isn't that I wasn't expecting this. No, quite the contrary. I've been in this sour room for more weeks than I can remember. But; am I dying, now? It isn't that I haven't come to terms with death
—or perhaps this fear in my trembling chest, the blistering windage of clockwork in my head, is telling me; I really haven't. Am I not ready? 

Through invisible wires groping at me, the soul which lays rest in my hard vessel begins to release into the atmosphere—and to my surprise, it isn’t as malicious and tainted in soot as I always joke it to be. What a pleasant surprise. I begin to list the order of which I mark my corporal physiological responses to fade into oblivion. First, my legs which I'd long lost the ability to shift against the rough sheets beneath me, second—my fingers which no longer yield the ability to curl, third my upper torso which once was capable of so much more than stiffness—and last, my hearing. My hearing; which had heard many terrible words—just as much as beautiful ones, maybe even less. 

Brightness that once glazed over my pupils a few seconds prior goes obscure and dark, clouded—as though someone held up an object too close for my pupils to distinguish. Each corner of my mouth—which had been used over countless intervals to express monstrous ideas, begins to quiver from it’s forced reassuring smile I forget I was wearing. Wandering towards the safe hold of my disintegrating mind, blackened walls begin to climb down and reveal an empty scape of white. Within the split second I assume to be before my last breathe, moments of my life flicker through galleries of generated photographed memories—some which I'm unsure if they'd for certain took place or I was simply imagining them. There were many times I'd end on all fours, with the force of a boulder crashing upon my suffocating side as tears dampened my face; a part of me wondered if I'd die drowning. Along with it were times of pure laughter possessing my lungs. Moments where I could barely contain my broad smile while I clutched onto my best friend for support. I'll miss the moment I crawled outside the small square of my bedroom just to lay around with him. For once, I'll reminisce over the idiotic arguments we had over small subjects such as food. I'm going to miss that moronic cocky grin of his. I'll miss it all. From here, far away, in the air I breathe, memories of summer; I will never forget. 

Why do I want lilies? Maybe, if I were the one picking the delicate lilies it would be for someone else’s farewell—not mine. However my hesitance of longing fades once warming streams can no longer be chained back behind shear force. With a thin brush, they paint down my pale cheeks and soon puddle into the detailed cave like crevices of my ears. Maybe, I'm ready to say good-bye after all. No longer fending back the confusing tears coating the crowns of my brooding—near black eyes I sometimes catch in a pale caramel discoloration, I conceal my whisper in a croak more silent than the hinge of an unfit door leading to my quaint bedroom I will never see again, “beautiful.” 

And so I smile in an ever so faded manner as death cradles me close with the scent of lilies dancing on inconspicuous strands between the folds of it’s hospitable warm cloak, “this," 

  "—is oblivion.” ­

''Feelings Before Death''
How I die tonight, here are these feelings of mine. 

I ask of you to not cry for me, to not miss me.

I ask of you to not hate me, neither to love me. 

I apologize for all my mistakes, each misdeed.

I cannot leave you a legacy- but unfortunately there will be memories. 

Please forget me. 

Do not let a single tear drop over me. 

I love you, and I'm sorry I cannot stay for eternity. 

As once these feelings before death engulf me,

I want you to realize you have given me a perpetuity.

So I plea; move on.

Be free.
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''I hate myself for being like this''
"Subject: Emo Kitten (fox)
By: YMRA

'Take a look a bit closer, squint a bit harder, don't let his soft laughter fool you a second longer. He's a loser, a goner, a walking- living martyr. Emotionally, he’s finished. Mentally, he’s void. Spiritually, he’s dead. Yet physically, his smile acts as a decoy,'

 waiting,
-Figure it out"
CCH:10



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Dear You,
(Yes, you reading this)

Wow. You are outstanding. I admire you so much more than you can fathom. Your soul is beautiful- shining (brighter than my future), glorious, breathtaking. Despite how much times you chuckle with your satire humor about the pitch black planes stretched beyond your pellucid glass windows, situated at a small corner of your cramped room, being almost as dark as your cracked spirit- I can never pull my line of vision from your radiance. You have survived so far- up until this point in your life 100% of your bitter cold hours—wow, how much years is that? You beat all of it. This seeming to be circle of unimaginative routine- the real world, it is going to get better, I promise. Your hard worked efforts that thieved your blood, sweat, and tears are not in vain, the ones- the efforts that sometimes you wonder if it's even worth it because no one even knows or can fully understand how persistent and hard you fight to accomplish them- you will find successfulness and content in your decelerating heartbeat.

On certain days you'll chime into the string of words above and throw your head to the side, gazing upon me with your exhausted orbs- who at this point just wishes with undeniable pang to break into tears and fall into mindless slumber. You wonder with a tinge of ridicule, "What efforts?". The moments where you loafed around in an idle presence- ignoring the world as depression engulfed your berated existence presses against the bleak plane of your mind as though sneering. On those certain days, I respond to you in a low impromptu whisper as though an enchanting secret between us, "The effort it took for you to get out of bed, to smile, to move on, to love, to be there for others, to paint your artificial happiness over your fractured grin that radiates brighter than the stars hovering over us as though a UFO sending signals to our planet about a future alien invasion," I follow the string of words that sped up in an exhilarated fashion as I neared the end with a much too humored laugh after catching myself getting carried away once more in a cord of supernatural fantasies. "The efforts it took for you to live and be strong, those efforts." I seal my sentence succeeding a melody of inelegant laughter creased into the still folds of our rotating earth. Affluent silence slips into the comforting space segregating the both of us.

And I know; I understand that at that moment anything besides believing my saccharine strand of words would come to you as truthful comfort. The mellow fragrance of the demon who sleeps within you- who embraced you when no one else would, when you were afraid, alone, and hopeless- graces my sense of stifled scent you would sometimes joke about being overdue for a belated doctor’s check up. I understand it's difficult, and through your exhausted pair of orbs, seemingly impossible- to let go of what built you up then broke you down. But then, after a comfortable pause, I will incline to your side and whisper into your cold bitten ear, hoping from the depths of my pleading despair that you will have confidence in me this one last time through this closing line, “I believe in you, and I care about you.”

So dear You,
(Yes, you reading this)
Because the world isn’t as bad as you think,
Thank you, for existing.
Dear You,
(Yes, you reading this)

Wow. You are outstanding. I admire you so much more than you can fathom. Your soul is beautiful- shining (brighter than my future), glorious, breathtaking. Despite how much times you chuckle with your satire humor about the pitch black planes stretched beyond your pellucid glass windows, situated at a small corner of your cramped room, being almost as dark as your cracked spirit- I can never pull my line of vision from your radiance. You have survived so far- up until this point in your life 100% of your bitter cold hours—wow, how much years is that? You beat all of it. This seeming to be circle of unimaginative routine- the real world, it is going to get better, I promise. Your hard worked efforts that thieved your blood, sweat, and tears are not in vain, the ones- the efforts that sometimes you wonder if it's even worth it because no one even knows or can fully understand how persistent and hard you fight to accomplish them- you will find successfulness and content in your decelerating heartbeat.

On certain days you'll chime into the string of words above and throw your head to the side, gazing upon me with your exhausted orbs- who at this point just wishes with undeniable pang to break into tears and fall into mindless slumber. You wonder with a tinge of ridicule, "What efforts?". The moments where you loafed around in an idle presence- ignoring the world as depression engulfed your berated existence presses against the bleak plane of your mind as though sneering. On those certain days, I respond to you in a low impromptu whisper as though an enchanting secret between us, "The effort it took for you to get out of bed, to smile, to move on, to love, to be there for others, to paint your artificial happiness over your fractured grin that radiates brighter than the stars hovering over us as though a UFO sending signals to our planet about a future alien invasion," I follow the string of words that sped up in an exhilarated fashion as I neared the end with a much too humored laugh after catching myself getting carried away once more in a cord of supernatural fantasies. "The efforts it took for you to live and be strong, those efforts." I seal my sentence succeeding a melody of inelegant laughter creased into the still folds of our rotating earth. Affluent silence slips into the comforting space segregating the both of us.

And I know; I understand that at that moment anything besides believing my saccharine strand of words would come to you as truthful comfort. The mellow fragrance of the demon who sleeps within you- who embraced you when no one else would, when you were afraid, alone, and hopeless- graces my sense of stifled scent you would sometimes joke about being overdue for a belated doctor’s check up. I understand it's difficult, and through your exhausted pair of orbs, seemingly impossible- to let go of what built you up then broke you down. But then, after a comfortable pause, I will incline to your side and whisper into your cold bitten ear, hoping from the depths of my pleading despair that you will have confidence in me this one last time through this closing line, “I believe in you, and I care about you.”

So dear You,
(Yes, you reading this)
Because the world isn’t as bad as you think,
Thank you, for existing.

deviantID

ShirosDreams's Profile Picture
ShirosDreams
[♚]
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
You could call me a lost soul, constantly wandering through the endless depths of the galaxy in search for my alter identity. Contrary, I believe I've found her already. I simply am unable to wake her up.

I lack the ability to art, rather my speciality lies in stalking and admiring others gorgeous work. My occupation is a full time dreamer and adventurer. My motto is; "If I don't have to do it, I won't do it. If I have to do it, I'll make it quick" (Ah, don't I sound interesting). I strive to live a listless, energy conserved, personal best, average lifestyle (Though, I'm always up for a wicked adventure). I tend to contradict myself a lot. I absolutely am in love with roleplay. My love for roleplaying stems from my love towards anime, manga and fantasy related items. I am a sarcastic (Well, I try), blunt creature that keeps to itself many a times. I rather enjoy my own company, however I do cherish all of the people around me. I approach art- and other things of the like, in a very experimental past time manner. Here on my page you'll find a cluster of unmethodical creations strung together through a cord of unusual expressiveness.
Interests

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:iconasahi-taichou:
Asahi-Taichou Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2017
Thanks for the fave! ^_^ 
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:iconenorie:
enorie Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2017  Student Digital Artist
Thanks for the watch!! :tighthug:
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:iconneonkalixy:
NeonKalixy Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2016   General Artist
CRYING ITS UR BIRTHDAAAYY
HAPPY BDAY SHIRO
OMG UR GROWING UP SO QUICKLY ;-;
HERE HAVE A DRAWING
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:iconshirosdreams:
ShirosDreams Featured By Owner May 6, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
BLASPHEMY WHY HAVEN'T I SEEN THIS PHOTO YET *IMITATES FROSTS PTERODACTYL SCREECH* IT'S TOO CUTE ;-; BEST FANART N/A 


dear heavens sorry for the late reply ;-; 
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:iconneonkalixy:
NeonKalixy Featured By Owner May 8, 2016   General Artist
oH MY SPRINKLY WALNUTS
SHIRO
UR ICON
IS MY ART ;-;
I"M SO HONOURED WOOAAHH ;-----;;;;

I NEED TO DRAW ALL MY FRIENDS MORE FANART OMG
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:iconashleyxbrooke:
AshleyxBrooke Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2015  Hobbyist Photographer
Hey there!  :icondawelcomewagon:

Welcome to Deviant Art :aww: hope you enjoy your time here :dummy: If you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask :heart:

:bulletpink: Stop by the DAWelcomeWagon group or the #welcome chatroom to get started!
:bulletpink:Check out dAmnHub to get involved with chat events or just to find a chat that you'd be interested in being part of  :)
:bulletpink: Check out projecteducate to keep up with projects/events on Deviant Art
:bulletpink: Want to share your art with other deviants? Check out #ThumbHub  



Prepare to become addicted :iconteheplz:

:gummybear:
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:iconshirosdreams:
ShirosDreams Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Hello Ashley!

Thank you for the warm and informative welcome! I highly appreciate it! 
I will definitely be keeping you in mind when I have any questions :) Hehe, I'm sure I already am addicted. The Deviant Art community has been so lovely and welcoming so far. I'm sure I will love this community! 

Best of luck, keep on dreaming!

Shiro. 
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:iconmelissasakura:
MelissaSakura Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2015  Student General Artist
Welcome to DeviantArt.
Have fun!
GIF Steven Universe - Lion in a box Hug May Wink Icon Darwin Fancy Sparkles Icon 
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:iconshirosdreams:
ShirosDreams Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Hello Melissa! 

Thank you so much! Hehe ^-^ 
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:iconmelissasakura:
MelissaSakura Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2015  Student General Artist
No problem!
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