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Welcome to WonderlandFalling down, down, down
Spinning 'round and 'round
All around, the ticking of clocks
Such a discordant sound

Right is left and left is right
Night is day and day is night
Up is down and down is up
Life is death and death is life

Voices whisper from every niche
Screams echo and cause a twitch
Claws and teeth threaten to kill
Eyes wild with bliss of such a thrill

Run, hide, fight, or plead
Nothing shall work, nothing you need
The sun and moon will laugh as you cry
As the Queen shrieks her commands to the sky

Blood forms penumbras as heads roll
A cry of defiance with each bell toll
The jury turns in accord, madness shining bright
Their ques
DreamDon't ever stop feeling what you want to feel. Reel in all the emotions you care to hold deep inside you, and nurture them within your heart. Embrace the sensation of being the only one to truly change your future, as long as you shove past all your doubts and reach the highest capacity your fingers can brush against. Advance towards your goal with your courage for a sword, justice for a shield, and all your hope forging the rest of your armor to brave every adversity you face. Make your passions you have in life happen, as long as you remember to accomplish one simple act.

never
ever
ever
stop

Dreaming.
Diamonds And GlassA human soul is like a glass vase. So fragile, so easy to break. Just one touch, and it can shatter into a thousand shards. So many pieces that not even a lifetime would be enough turns of the clock to meld it all back together.

So instead of being glass...

Why don't we turn our souls into diamonds instead?

After all, diamonds are one of the strongest materials to be found in nature that can be shaped into something beautiful.

Who wants to be seen as glass that can be pulverized with the slightest of pressure, when instead you can be viewed as one of the most durable and gorgeous souls in the world?
PulsateWhat is a heartbeat,
without the heart?
What is a dream,
without the conscience?
What is a word,
without the letters?
What is a hope,
without the faith?
What is a soul,
without the self?
What is a kiss,
without the love?

What am I,
without you?
S E C R E T Ss omething
e veryone
c onceals
r eadily
e ven
t hough
s ecrets

c
a
n

                k
                   i
                      l
                         l
Written AnatomySkin like dehydrated parchment
Blood like deluged ink
Sink a blade into the seamed veins
And let the words of life all flow free
Mother EarthShe has suns for eyes,
and oceans for tears,
a blade of grass for each hair,
and wisdom beyond her years.

Rage like an earthquake,
sorrow as deep as the sea,
madness funneled like a hurricane,
joy blooming so vividly, kings fall to their knee.

Her skin is a motley,
with hues so dark and bright,
she sleeps during the day,
and lays awake at night.

She has the universe for a heart,
and the cosmos burn in her soul,
however, humanity's blindness,
is at last taking its toll.
No More TearsThere is a desert beneath her eyes
Dry, desolate, despairing
Devoid of life; devoid of emotion; devoid of hope;
Now just a broken ravine carved by sorrow
Now just a barren canyon chiseled by fear
Now just a fragmented chasm sculpted by dread
Now just a tearless void
Of emptiness
A Scholarly MasqueradeSometimes I like to pretend,
I'm like the Mariana Trench with my words.

That my fingers construct such eloquence,
as abyssal and profound as the Grand Canyon.

Yet the truth of the matter is that,
my heart has not been pulverized into dust.

I am about as succint and poignant,
as a rusted bucket.
Her Aesthetic CrusadeShe paints a world of crimson midnight,
and you watch the sanguine colors drip down her skin.
Wilted rose petals stain her wrist scarlet,
and canyons are carved deep in porcelain flesh.
"Battle scars," she tells you simply with a flick of the paintbrush,
meticulous as she resumes her sanguine masterpiece.
"Have you won?" you ask,
though you already know the answer.
She smiles fondly and holds up the tormented easel,
for all to see the newly wrought crevice of flaming burgundy.
"How can one win this war against the burning red, my friend,
when you can barely win the battle against yourself?"
An Obituary To My ChildhoodDearly beloved; we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of a very special and dear friend to all of us...our Childhood.


Childhood. Ah, I remember you as clear as yesterday. You were certainly my truest friend throughout the years--with you, I could do anything. I could be anything. 
Do you remember that for every white rabbit you saw, there was a hole with Wonderland awaiting you close by? 
Do you remember when those shimmers in the air on a really hot day was actually Tinkerbell, trying to give you some pixie dust?
Do you remember seeing something out of the corner of your eye, and automatically you knew it was something from an enchanted forest just waiting for you to follow?
I do. I remember it all. Back then, imagination was the true form of currency. What are these "checks" and "credit cards" you speak of? All I need to do is think really hard, and I'll have some gold to give you!
But those days are over. We are not allow
Heart of Iceshe wishes for a heart of ice

a heart to hide her fears

she wishes for a heart of ice

a heart to freeze her tears

but if her heart of ice meets fire

then perhaps it will thaw

for if her heart of ice meets fire

she will surely pour out her emotions raw
Mute TranslucenceShe is trapped in a glass box
One which follows her every move
It is always caging her in
With invisible walls so everyone can see her inside
Yet barriers so thick no one can hear her pleas

A cry of desperation rises up from her crystalline prison
A lamenting wail so loud it threatens to shatter the mirrored bulwark

"Why won't anyone listen to me?

She listens for a response
As the crowds continue to rush past her enclosure
All brushing against the invisible walls
All seeming to forget she's there

There is no acknowledgement to her despondent appeal

but s i l e n c e
TemporalI am the yesterday waiting for my tomorrow,
and you are the future waiting for your past.

Let us correspond our oscillating hearts,
hidden behind adamantine bastions,
and together we shall fabricate a new

today.
It's an unrequited love, isn't it?I know you will never read this.

I know you will never get the chance to even catch a glimpse of this.

But I just want you to know that I love you.

You're perfect to me. I don't care about your flaws. I don't care about the faults that everyone else always seem to point out.

I really don't care.

What matters to me is that you are you. And because you are you, I love you.

I just wish you could love me back.

I just wish you could say the same words to me--to make me believe that I'm not the worthless thing I see in the mirror every day.

I just wish you could be here, comforting me when I need it, and telling me you love me over and over
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More from *PrussianPersephone

Heart of Iceshe wishes for a heart of ice

a heart to hide her fears

she wishes for a heart of ice

a heart to freeze her tears

but if her heart of ice meets fire

then perhaps it will thaw

for if her heart of ice meets fire

she will surely pour out her emotions raw
Uninstallgazing in front of the screen, her eyes scroll across codes and blueprints

the archetypes of her life

each word scrolls along the monitor in vibrant, neon flashes

          "family"
                                           
                    "friends"

           "school"

                    "career"

          "emotions"

so many words, so many codes, so many commands, so many ways to ruin or improve her life

just a single keystroke, and everything can change

at last, her eyes settle on the one file she had been looking for; the one that mattered the most

"me"

a smile transcribes across her face as the cursor scrolls onto t
Her Reality                          she closes her eyes
                         
                         just for a single moment

                         she is a goddess
I wishI wish I was the type of person who could create a masterpiece in a matter of moments; rather than slave over something for hours and still not have it quite right.

I wish I had the ability to make words my soldiers; have them form whatever battalion I commanded them to, and call me "Lieutenant."

I wish I could be proud of the armies I train; instead of continuously hating the strategies they impose with which words and phrases they struggle so hard to be.

I wish I could feel the thrill of having twenty-four hours of fame; and actually deserving such an honor.

But most of all?

I wish I didn't have all these ambitions and longings; becaus
It's an unrequited love, isn't it?I know you will never read this.

I know you will never get the chance to even catch a glimpse of this.

But I just want you to know that I love you.

You're perfect to me. I don't care about your flaws. I don't care about the faults that everyone else always seem to point out.

I really don't care.

What matters to me is that you are you. And because you are you, I love you.

I just wish you could love me back.

I just wish you could say the same words to me--to make me believe that I'm not the worthless thing I see in the mirror every day.

I just wish you could be here, comforting me when I need it, and telling me you love me over and over
An Obituary To My ChildhoodDearly beloved; we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of a very special and dear friend to all of us...our Childhood.


Childhood. Ah, I remember you as clear as yesterday. You were certainly my truest friend throughout the years--with you, I could do anything. I could be anything. 
Do you remember that for every white rabbit you saw, there was a hole with Wonderland awaiting you close by? 
Do you remember when those shimmers in the air on a really hot day was actually Tinkerbell, trying to give you some pixie dust?
Do you remember seeing something out of the corner of your eye, and automatically you knew it was something from an enchanted forest just waiting for you to follow?
I do. I remember it all. Back then, imagination was the true form of currency. What are these "checks" and "credit cards" you speak of? All I need to do is think really hard, and I'll have some gold to give you!
But those days are over. We are not allow

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Flights of Fancy

:iconprussianpersephone:

I believe in
the impossible
the childish
the unseen
the absurd
the silly

I believe in lands somewhere over the rainbow
I believe in worlds hidden under the rabbit hole
I believe in kingdoms on the other side of the wardrobe
I believe in enchanted forests where animals talk in riddles
I believe in palaces where wizards entertain immortal kings

I believe in
fairies
dragons
unicorns
spirits
elves

in the magic and wonder that only a child's eyes can see
in the universes hopes and dreams can create with a single thought

I believe in everything that so many say are imaginary; in everything that so many people scoff at and call me fanciful and immature for believing in

However, I simply say to them:

"I just still have my imagination, is all."
:iconprussianpersephone:
Guys, seriously, after seeing Rise of the Guardians...it's like my inner child I've been trying really hard to push down this year since I'm supposed to be maturing and growing up and all that is just bubbling up and making me see everything in a different light.

I blame you, Jack Frost. I blame you.

Anyway...I actually have always been the type of person with an overactive imagination. Ever since I was a little kid, and I hope I keep that with me until I am an old lady. I really do believe in everything that so many people want to write off as a children's story, like magic and enchanted worlds and the like; but I also am realistic and know that such things exist only at certain moments.

I'll shut up before I start sounding really weird. ^^;

So...yeah. In the wise words of Journey, don't stop believing.
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:iconhetaliatardis:
Mood: Love *hetaliatardis Jan 18, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Lovely
Reply
:iconawesomehellee9:
~AwesomeHellee9 Nov 29, 2012  Hobbyist
Remind me of bednock and broomsticks "
Reply
:icontngapch:
*tngapch Nov 28, 2012  Professional Writer
A wise person once told me, growing up isn't shutting away your inner child - it's learning to co-exist. :)
Reply
:iconprussianpersephone:
*PrussianPersephone Nov 29, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
I like thinking it that way better than what I've heard.
Reply
:iconcardinaldesertfox:
~CardinalDesertFox Nov 28, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Ah, this is a subject that I've felt strongly about for years. I used to refer to it as no longer believing in magic, but really what I meant was something along these lines.

When we stop exercising our imaginations, stop believing, we lose a whole range of possibilities and kill our creativity and make ourselves unhappy because of it.

It's that little saying about the creative adult being the child who survived again. :heart:
Reply
:iconautumn--thunder:
=autumn--thunder Nov 27, 2012  Student General Artist
You don't sound weird at all. ^^ I'm the same, in all truth. And I embrace it. Having a brilliant imagination like you do is one of your most wonderful qualities and it's something to be treasured, because it shows that you have the intelligence and heart to believe in something that not many others will.
Reply
:iconprussianpersephone:
*PrussianPersephone Nov 28, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
...you said I was smart. :'D
Reply
:iconautumn--thunder:
=autumn--thunder Nov 28, 2012  Student General Artist
...I did indeed. :'D Heck, you're one of the smartest people I've met.
Reply
:iconsvitavotara:
Mood: Joy ~Svitavotara Nov 27, 2012
When it comes to a wild imagination, I'm guilty of charge. However, my dreams are one of the things that make me happy.
Reply
:iconprussianpersephone:
*PrussianPersephone Nov 28, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Ditto on that my friend.
Reply
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