whereflowersbloom

whereflowersbloom

Your words echo through my veins.

My name is Ana and I have a soft heart and cold hands. Mostly a nerd, occasionally an artist, always a walking disasterεἰ δὲ θανόντων περ καταλήθοντ’ εἰν Ἀΐδαο αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ κεῖθι φίλου μεμνήσομ' ἑταίρου..

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Tumblr paired up with Humans of New York to raise money for Hurricane Sandy relief.

whereflowersbloom·9 hours agoText

Little soldier boy send to fight a war that isn’t his own,

bids farewell with encouraging words, no fear in his voice.

With pride and will power a promise is made to come back home safe

Though it may seem he won’t return even in optimistic dreams, a crimson bloodstream waits for him.

Through long winter, followed by spring and summer, through ever changing fall, the boy never came back.

The sun fading rays bathing landscapes with rich colors and shapes greeted a marching troop carrying a small casket, men clenching eyes resisting helpless tears.

Trees rustling softly along the chilly breeze, create a symphony of sorrow and peace for a young boy’s body who has gone still.

Fragile leaves fall and dance with the wind, lifted towards the sky to finish out their lives.

A moment of silence as quiet as snow is held to honor a brave soldier buried underneath roots of a growing willow tree.

Little soldier boy did not come back marching home.

Little soldier boy.

A. M.

Based on uncle Iroh’s song

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whereflowersbloom·14 hours agoText

I wrote this because I’m terrible at talking about my feelings and honestly I’m terrified of getting hurt, cause it happens often. So I thought maybe looking at this would give me courage to be honest. I keep posponing it, but I hope one day I can say the things I’m scared of speaking out loud. I don’t think I have the right to like anyone, specially since I’m sick. Maybe feelings are too complex, or we make them too complex. I like the fact that talking to you makes me forget I’m sick and you’ve been very supportive, and you care more than my own family. At the end of the day I’m human and I have emotions even if I persist burying them down somewhere inside me. So maybe one day I’ll be brave and tell you how much I like you, or you’ll read this, the truth will be out anyway. I don’t care anymore if it’s right or wrong. Sometimes your heart chooses before you realise. I have around 20 drafts with thoughts I keep to myself because again bad at feelings m. But it’s one of the best things that happened to me this year. Feeling again. So thank you for it. It’s alright if you don’t feel it, I simply wanted to like you. Because I really do, a lot. You’re one of the reasons I started writing poetry again. So when you read them, there’s pieces of you in them. I didn’t have expectations, I truly only wanted to tell you how I feel. So maybe after all those poems and nights the stars never aligned. If I had to pick a single person to annoy the rest of my life, it would be you. I know we already talked about it but I still like you a lot. And the letter 1 in my master list kinda is about you. I’m sorry Incant stop writing but I’m human and Incaht stop feeling.

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whereflowersbloom·19 hours agoText

Humans are ambitious creatures, craving forever down to the marrow.

So they draw on caves and paint on walls and sheets, creations coming to life as fingers dance along the lines.

They want to breakdown walls with earthquakes of freedom and clever thoughts, reforge oldstone barriers with master skills wishing to be called architects:

There are those retelling folktales and legends, using inspiring words leaving you awe-struck, chronicles of star-crossed lovers and heroes that fail only to be redeemed,

A romance between the distant sun meets the glowing moon with the lightest brush.

How meticulously they weave words and fervour.

Leaving behind immortalised moments and breaths their lungs have taken, comparing them to interstellar dust and magnificent suns

But their hearts cannot decide half-pleased with ink-stained palms whether the piece is worthy of being called chef-d'oeuvre.

If it wholly contains every drop of blood, sweat and tears poured into this masterpiece.

Masterpiece.

A. M.

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whereflowersbloom·a day agoPhoto

ekbelsher:

Detail from the Queen of Mirth scene I’m working on, from Holly Black’s novel The Wicked King. When Jude tells Cardan “I hate you,” I think I laughed out loud. It’s my favourite line from the whole book 😊 Hopefully I made her look sufficiently resentful here!

whereflowersbloom
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whereflowersbloom·a day agoPhoto

te-al-latte:

Drew my favorite ACOFAS scene in between work 👀

😭😭😭😭 precious 💖💖💖

whereflowersbloom
whereflowersbloom
whereflowersbloom
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whereflowersbloom·a day agoText

clubolive:

New personality test are u the one bugging ur sibling in public or are u the one avoiding ur sibling in public and are u eldest middle or youngest

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whereflowersbloom·2 days agoText

seungjin-chan:

how other people see my enthusiasm in writing fics: passion

how it really is:

Hello???? It’s me. I mean 😂😂😂😂

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whereflowersbloom·2 days agoText

Young lovers hide behind rosebuds exchanging honey words and strokes

Interlacing fingers and making vows of a promise land where new verses flourish

Love leaves its mark and hearts grow attached to this garden of serene souls and first love

The garden is witness of the cycle of dawn of love, with heartbreak roses wilt and hearts as soil crack if they aren’t nourished with gentle care.

But no hope is all lost as the circle repeats and sentiment will bloom once again.

Lovers, shed no tears and be a little patient ,you’ll recite poems with your lips yet again

Your sweet gestures and timid embraces ignite a eternal flame in this garden where intimacy has build a nest.

Secret garden

A. M.

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whereflowersbloom·2 days agoPhoto

te-al-latte:

Death and his lovely fawn. 

re-upload cause i fixed something. 

I love them 😭😭😭

whereflowersbloom
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