I don’t want to run to no Hills

I don’t want to run to no hills
I can’t seem to summon of the will
To recall how to administer the sign
I’ve built – without you

King Dude – Silver Crucifix –

king dude x helena aguilar mayans x under the pyramids - 4

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I bring you Gold and Silver Moons

Girl with the burning golden eyes,
And red-bird song, and snowy throat:
I bring you gold and silver moons,
And diamond stars, and mists that float.
I bring you moons and snowy clouds,
I bring you prairie skies to-night
To feebly praise your golden eyes
And red-bird song, and throat so white.

Vachel Lindsay To Gloriana –

under the pyramids - I bring you Gold and Silver Moons 8

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I know not which I love the best

The sisters glide about me hand in hand,
Both beautiful alike, nor can I tell
One from the other, no, nor care to tell
One from the other, only know they come,
They smile upon me, till, remembering all
The love they both have borne me, and the love
I bore them both – divided as I am
From either by the stillness of the grave –
I know not which of these I love the best.

– Lord Alfred Tennyson – The Sisters –

vivienne mok x under the pyramids - the sisters

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Bespoke

Bespoke is an adjective for anything commissioned to a particular specification. It may be altered or tailored to the customs, tastes, or usage of an individual purchaser.

Origin: The word « bespoke » is derived from the verb « to bespeak », meaning to « speak for something ». The particular meaning of the verb form is first cited from 1583 and given in the Oxford English Dictionary: « to speak for, to arrange for, engage beforehand: to ‘order’ (goods)”. The adjective « bespoken » means “ordered, commissioned, arranged for” and is first cited from 1607.

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Sorcellerie

Frau Gaubenslosher was strongly suspected of witchcraft. […] And it must be confessed appearances were against the Frau. In the first place, she lived quite alone in a forest. This was suspicious.

Ambrose Bierce The fowl Witch –

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Like slithers of a Fallen Moon

Lightlessness. Each man’s hands clutch
at spears and amulets. My own
fill with hacksilver, its small grey fragments
like slithers of a fallen moon

– Laura Webb – Coda, from An Anthology of responses to Skaldic poetry

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A tyrant Spell has bound me

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.

[…]

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

Emily Brontë The night is darkening around me –

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The Secret of the Sea

I behold that stately galley,
Hear those mournful melodies;
Till my soul is full of longing
For the secret of the sea,
And the heart of the great ocean
Sends a thrilling pulse through me.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow – The secret of the Sea –

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A Storm of Swords

Soon comes the cold, and the night that never ends.

George R.R. Martin A Storm of Swords –

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The Gray turns Gold

There is a woodland witch who lies […]
The dragon-flies, brass-bright and blue,
Are signs she works her sorcery through;
Weird, wizard characters she weaves
Her spells with under forest leaves
[…]
The fancies that she doth devise
Take on the forms of butterflies
[…]
Till, where the wood is very lone,
Vague monotone meets monotone
[…]
There is no mortal who may scorn
The witchery she spreads around
Her din demesne, wherein is bound
The beauty of abandoned time,
As some sweet thought ‘twixt rhyme and rhyme.
And through her spells you shall behold
The blue turn gray, the gray turn gold
Of hollow heaven; and the brown
Of twilight vistas twinkled down

Madison Cawein – The Wood Witch –

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