Poem & Quotes

Reiko

Reiko

Active Member
Just a post for the literature nerds out there who love a good poem or quote or have one of their own to share!

Feel free to share one you enjoy or made yourself ❤️🫶
**Just make sure it follows forum rules!**

Here is one of my favorite quotes;

You are not being an escapist when you don’t feel like dealing with the drama of the day, and choose instead to go out in nature where you can be surrounded by peace and beauty. You are following the directions of the master teachers who understood and taught the stilling of the mind and the calming of the soul.
—PAXTON ROBEY​
 
Maybe she's hard for you to understand, because she has depth and passion and magic and sometimes that's too complex for small minded people. When you are accustomed to the shallow, the deep will always be intimidating. She knows who she is. It's okay if you don't.


Stephanie Bennett-Henry
 
“You don’t know what it’s like to have to pretend to be helpless just to stay safe. There’s a reason girls yell ‘fire’ instead of ‘râpe’, why we lie and say we have boyfriends instead of just saying ‘no’ when we’re not interested. Because a lot of men respect another man’s property more than they respect a woman’s right to her own body. So while I’m forced to live in a man’s world, I do what I have to do."

-J M Darhower
 
two poems by indolent schizo

My darkness shines in your eyes my silver moon Goddess
Let me live here in the past with you forever
We do not care about death or resurrection
It would be perfect were it not for the world
--
After darkness is the dawn
With rays of piercing light
Wish you could be there with me
At morning's call of death

Nevermore became my name
When you bestowed your glance
Upon this wretch undeserving
Of even the slightest chance

Someday we will find ourselves
Though people look askance
As we wind through this crooked road
Of life's absurd dance
 
three poems by indolent schizo

Blessed be our mother Rachel most precious and from heaven sent
And blessed be our father Jacob who to Hades bravely went
Blessed be our parents
And blessed be our kids
And from the ice of hell the holocaust of Psycho Cid
-
My children you are dear to me
And you can do no wrong
And to you all my children
I dedicate this song

Virgin Mother Mary
Unworthy sinners pray
That we may touch your mercy
And live another day

To our father in heaven
We give the kiss of faith
So that we can forget this world
And enter heaven's gate
-
Love is a burning flame
Unquenchable unquenched
We love just like we eat
To satisfy a hunger
That is never enough
And starving then we die
And our burning flame is snuffed
 
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

- Sylvia Plath, Lady Lazarus
 
a wordy poem by indolent schizo probably called Always Write from the Heart or perhaps Satan's Got the Munchies

As the conqueror worm feeds on us all, so does love. We are food for the serpent in the garden. O devouring serpent, let me linger here for a little while before you begin your repast; let me eat the fruits of my youth for only a little while longer before I taste your forbidden fruit, and you eat me, and I die. Am I so evil? Am I cast out of the body of Christ forever?

Love is the poison that sweetens the fruit of knowledge. Take me down--down--down--take me, you monster in the dark, take me down to hell, and by the grace of God I pass through the abyss into a world where it is no longer night. Angels in the realms of noon and the twelve hours of daylight beckon to me, and who can resist?

Send me to sleep in the writhing darkness of pain and nothingness. Dream the hellscapes of the unknown horrors inside the void. It is like the primal days before there was ecstasy and fallen creatures; in that primal day there was nothing but chaos and void, fire and kindling. Say not that I have done all these things in vain! Say that Jesus Christ is my Lord and savior, and it was all a bad dream!
 
Every time you kill a child
You kill the god within
Every time you kill a mum
Its an evil sin
No matter where you go
No matter where you've been
War is such a evil show
That we watch upon a screen


Why is it that calls for peace
Make you one to hate?
Why is wanting wars to cease
Is even a debate?
Why are we with this view
Smeared with such lies
And told we have no clue
With all that this implies


Follow the cash is what I say
See who war really aids
Who makes the profits today
The ones doing back door trades
Pushing for the death of many
To enrich the few
They all live with plenty
While its the poor they screw

ZombiUnicornis
 
War of Self

Death and destruction around me
Devastation for all to see
Pestilence and war all around
Peace and happiness no longer found
Bodies shredded bloodied land
Not my doing not my hand
Four riders that exist inside
There is no where to run and hide
Warmongers abide within
Destruction of self at whim

Emotional pillage is the norm
Rotting corpses nothing warm
Malevolence thrown my way
No energy to join the fray
Ghosts of past telling me no good
A failure to be understood
This is my nightmare cant you see
You understand why I cant be?
With you the way you want
All love left on the war front

ZombiUnicornis
 
ZombiUnicornis said:
Every time you kill a child
You kill the god within
Every time you kill a mum
Its an evil sin
No matter where you go
No matter where you've been
War is such a evil show
That we watch upon a screen


Why is it that calls for peace
Make you one to hate?
Why is wanting wars to cease
Is even a debate?
Why are we with this view
Smeared with such lies
And told we have no clue
With all that this implies


Follow the cash is what I say
See who war really aids
Who makes the profits today
The ones doing back door trades
Pushing for the death of many
To enrich the few
They all live with plenty
While its the poor they screw

ZombiUnicornis
Click to expand...
I couldn't agree more. We are all the same. We all are driven by a will to power. This world defiles itself by the very ecstasy it cherishes. Bravo. The trouble with all poets is they are too elitist. They make references to Epicurus and the god Dionysis and this classic and that symbol, and they lose the essence that is common to us all. Why can't poets write like ordinary people? Oh no, I think I just critiqued myself.
 
a contemporaneous poem about my current medication situation

schizophrenic egocentric
mind become a metric stream
take ozempic lose the heif'ric
pounds that don't make no one's dream

antiphsychotics make me fat
so I'll stop taking them that's that
but what then is in store for me
to go through life a crazed looney

abilify is a new one
it doesnt make me quite rotund
maybe I'll give that one a try
these words are true or hope to die
 
“Words can be like X-rays if you use them properly – they’ll go through anything. You read and you’re pierced.”

― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World
 
Floating in a sea of guests
What isit with these pests
Day and night the do surround
Nothing worthy nothing profound
Perving here and perving there
Of a kick they do not care
How is they come about
With so many rules they do flout
Constantly I hit ignore
But they come back more and more
What else can I do with these pests
When floating in a sea of guests
 
Judas (there I said it)

Take your knife from out my back
Take your heart so mean and black
I don't need your war machine
I don't need your ghetto scene
Me inverted what you are
Silly with my seven stars
 
Over and Over again

Mistrust the different
Always fighting the current
Swimming to high seas
So many evil decrees
Neocons run the show
Nowhere to turn no where to go
Once again they bring wars
No justification for the cause
Sending our blood down the drain
Over and over again

Nothing changes nothing goes
Leaving us in death throws
So many blind
Led by the evil kind
Calls to awaken unheeded
Self destruction is seeded
Attack of the right and just
To them is a must
Social media run by the inane
Over and over and over again

So many tears I cry
Brought by those causing the fire
They try to justify
The destruction of those they crucify
Tearing at the heart
Putting the horse before the cart
Razor blades cut deep
Bringing wounds blood seep
Desires all lead to Cain
Over and over and over and over again

ZombiUnicornis
 
Princessa said:
Humour dumpy sat on the wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fork all the kings whores and all the kings men could not put humour together again
Click to expand...
I lost my sense of humor when that guy was talking outside my window when I was resting in my chair in 2010. I had just decided to turn my life around and was deep in thought when it occurred to me as he was talking that the world was getting revenge against me for disturbing its peace and quiet.
 
Princessa said:
Humour dumpy sat on the wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fork all the kings whores and all the kings men could not put humour together again
Click to expand...
Trumpty Dumpty built a big wall. Trumpty Dumpty to criminal court was called. And all the republicans doing time in the pen' couldn't put Trumpty together again. What violence can you do to me to kill my sense of humor?
 
****** Not a Poem ******



Poetry is a old art form not spoken or written anymore,
though we can see traces of this in turn of the century
composed forms.

Even today the poetry became darker then has ever been
yet we must realize what a poem is before we cast
our two cents worth upon it.

A Poem is a composed written work that describes ones
feelings or mood it is a short story of a interlude or
a collective thought describing the senses.

Making Poetry the most powerful stirring tool in the written language
But we need to use it more and more
you listen to a lot of poetry in many lyrics of song on the radio.

The sad part is that Poetry is all about us and still with us
maybe it is time to reflect and find
the poet in your influential life is a written work or song.

You be surprised what it is you will find
yet do not take my word for it am just a modest
Poet not like some of the greats.



*** The END ***​
 
Lunar~Moon said:
****** Not a Poem ******



Poetry is a old art form not spoken or written anymore,
though we can see traces of this in turn of the century
composed forms.

Even today the poetry became darker then has ever been
yet we must realize what a poem is before we cast
our two cents worth upon it.

A Poem is a composed written work that describes ones
feelings or mood it is a short story of a interlude or
a collective thought describing the senses.

Making Poetry the most powerful stirring tool in the written language
But we need to use it more and more
you listen to a lot of poetry in many lyrics of song on the radio.

The sad part is that Poetry is all about us and still with us
maybe it is time to reflect and find
the poet in your influential life is a written work or song.

You be surprised what it is you will find
yet do not take my word for it am just a modest
Poet not like some of the greats.



*** The END ***​
Click to expand...
Very nice!
 
Louize said:
“People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.”
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
Click to expand...
Aye?

Old Man Smile GIF by F*CK, THAT'S DELICIOUS
 

Trees​

  • Joyce Kilmer
    1886 –
    1918

    I think that I shall never see
    A poem lovely as a tree.
    A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
    Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
    A tree that looks at God all day,
    And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
    A tree that may in summer wear
    A nest of robins in her hair;
    Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
    Who intimately lives with rain.
    Poems are made by fools like me,
    But only God can make a tree.

    (poem in public domain b4 copyright attacks)
 
A different version/translation of the one I've had as a bio for awhile

I dreamt I was a butterfly.
I couldn't tell if I was dreaming.
But when I woke, I was I and not a butterfly.
Was I dreaming that I was the butterfly,
or was the butterfly dreaming that it was me?
Even if there's a difference between the butterfly and I,
the distinction isn't absolute.
And there is no relationship of cause and effect.
 
A Psalm of Life
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
 
Over and Over again.

Mistrust the different
Always fighting the current
Swimming to high seas
So many evil decrees
Neocons run the show
Nowhere to turn no where to go
Once again they bring wars
No justification for the cause
Sending our blood down the drain
Over and over again

Nothing changes nothing goes
Leaving us in death throws
So many blind
Led by the evil kind
Calls to awaken unheeded
Self destruction is seeded
Attack of the right and just
To them is a must
Social media run by the inane
Over and over and over again


So many tears I cry
Brought by those causing the fire
They try to justify
The destruction of those they crucify
Tearing at the heart
Putting the horse before the cart
Razor blades cut deep
Bringing wounds blood seep
Desires all lead to Cain
Over and over and over and over again

Won a gold medal for this one
 
Somedays you should open Pandora's box... somedays you shouldn't lol.

- iduno, seems an acceptable rhythm.
 
War of Self



Death and destruction around me
Devastation for all to see
Pestilence and war all around
Peace and happiness no longer found
Bodies shredded bloodied land
Not my doing not my hand
Four riders that exist inside
There is no where to run and hide
Warmongers abide within
Destruction of self at whim


Emotional pillage is the norm
Rotting corpses nothing warm
Malevolence thrown my way
No energy to join the fray
Ghosts of past telling me no good
A failure to be understood
This is my nightmare cant you see
You understand why I cant be?
With you the way you want
All love left on the war front

ZombiUnicornis
 
How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
“Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;”
Desires compos’d, affections ever ev’n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav’n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp’ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th’ unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav’nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.
 
"𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬: 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐚 "𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧" 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 *𝐨𝐰𝐧* 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞. 𝐀𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 - 𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤."

~ 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐑𝐲𝐚𝐧 (𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕)
 
Erin Hanson - Not.

"You are not your age,
Nor the size of clothes you wear,
You are not a weight,
Or the colour of your hair.
You are not your name,
Or the dimples in your cheeks,
You are all the books you read,
And all the words you speak,
You are your croaky morning voice,
And the smiles you try to hide,
You’re the sweetness in your laughter,
And every tear you’ve cried,
You’re the songs you sing so loudly,
When you know you’re all alone,
You’re the places that you’ve been to,
And the one that you call home,
You’re the things that you believe in,
And the people that you love,
You’re the photos in your bedroom,
And the future you dream of,
You’re made of so much beauty,
But it seems that you forgot,
When you decided that you were defined,
By all the things you’re not... "
 
{ Hidden feelings }​

The nights have driven you away.
This time, it may be forever.
Why? You may ask.
You left me alone in this cruel world.
A world full of judgement and pain.
I thought that i needed you, I actually do.
Nothing can change the fact that you're gone.


And i ask myself,
Is this the end?
Am I losing my mind?
Am i crazy?
The night is going slowly, slower than my thoughts.
I don't know how to think nor how to act.


You were keeping me sane.
You were the light to my darkness.
You were the bright part in my eyes, heart and head.


Come back; come back to me.
No, I'm not desperate.
Maybe i just need to find the other half of myself.
That was you though, wasn't it?
You were my last chance, sadly; you're gone.


Stay away from my fragile heart.
Like bees stay away from water.
Like the hot boiling oil should stay away from water.

~ Elysian.

( I wrote this last year, idek what it is atp )
 
“Painful as it may be, a significant emotional event can be the catalyst for choosing a direction that serves us - and those around us - more effectively. Look for the learning.”
- Louisa May Alcott
 
“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.”


C.S.Lewis
 
Gross warning
Poem for those with a cold


Snot
Eat it while its hot
Dribbling down the throat
Suck it up until you bloat
better than pizza with pineapple
Much easier to grapple
warm and slimey
eat and sing Blimey
for breakfast lunch dinner and afternoon tea
Just eat it while its hot
Beautiful dripping snot
 
It can be born anywhere
Even where you do not expect
Where you would not have said
Where you would not have looked

It can grow from nothing
And blossom in a second
A single glance is all it takes
To understand you all the way

It can invade the thoughts,
go straight to the heart.
leave you sitting on the stairs,
Leave you speechless
Love has a thousand stems
Love has only a flower

It can grow alone
And vanish like nothing
Because nothing holds it
Or binds it to you forever

It can grow in lands
Where the sun doesn’t shine,
Open the fist of a hand,
Change the meaning of the words

Love has no meaning,
Love does not have a name,
Love wets the eyes,
Love warms the heart,
Love shivers,
Love has no reason

It’s so great that it seems indefinite,
to leave you breathless
His arm will lead you away from the past forever
My love,
is you
My love,
You are …

Love has no meaning,
Love does not have a name,
Love is not wrong,
Love has no reason,
Love shivers,
Love warms the heart

It can make you better
And change you slowly
It gives you everything you want
It does not ask for anything in return
It can arise from a gesture,
From the hint of a smile
From a greeting,
By an exchange,
From a shared location

Love has no meaning
Love does not have a name
Love is in the eye
Love warms the heart
Love shivers
Love has no reason

Love has no meaning
Love does not have a name
Love goes in the eyes
Love warms the heart
Love beats teeth
Love has no reason

My love is you
My love …
You are …

My love is you …
My love … you.
 
Her reach falls short and yet she reaches
to gasp that which she cannot hold
yearning for those stardust skies
and seeking for those suns of gold.

She knows in truth it can't be done
and yet she won't give up her quest
she runs a race that can't be won
pursues her goal with a dream she cleaves.

Joyful to the stars she flees
to land on shores she'll never see
believing what she cannot see
and seeing all that she believes.

She basks in warmth from foreign suns
and breathes air with scents of night
caresses silver sands at dawn
and bathes in rivers flowing brightly.

Now, who can tell what may yet be
impossible for you to see?

...what dream ?...what goal ?...what passion ?

...Yet first you must be a dreamer.
 
"There are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse than
too late."


"Ham on Rye: A Novel" by C.Bukowski
 
You know what dad called me when I was growing up? "Five ninety-eight." That's what all chemicals in the human body would be worth if you bottled them raw and sold them.
He told me that was all I'd ever be worth unless I worked every day to
improve myself. "Five ninety-eight."

Screenwriter Tom Schulman
 
Night

It's all right,
Unless you're either lonely
or under attack.
That strange effortful
Repositioning of yourself.
Laundry,shopping,hours,the telephone
Unless misinformed
Only ever ringing for you,
if it ever does.
The night-yours to decide
Among drink,or books or lying there.
On your back, or curled up.
An embarrassment of poverty.

Michael Hofmann
 
It is hard to not feel broken when it is always quiet enough to hear your pieces rattle.

-Tyler Knott Gregson-
 

“Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.”​

Thomas Edison
 
metaphors for pain

i feel
the bright, harsh flames
upon my skin

they burn
continuously
with fiery fierceness

they lick
their ever changing colours
on to my body

i scream

but no one hears me
 
"You meet saints everywhere. They are people behaving decently in an indecent society"
-Kurt Vonnegut
 
"Thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows"

— Troilus and Cressida, Act 2 Scene 1, Lines 42-43
 
A fair lady rolls up her pearl window-blind;
Sitting deep within, she knits her moth eyebrows.
One sees only the wet traces of her tears,
But knows not whom she his hating!

-- “Sorrow Untold” by Li Bai, translated by Cheng Yu Sun
 
‘Respect should be viewed as a reciprocal exchange. When individuals fail to show respect towards one another, it can devolve into a mere formality.’
 
“Happiness is an essential ingredient of success, not merely its result.”
 
I've been to the edge of darkness in a world of endless nights. I've seen what forever looks like in the darkest place of life, and I've come back to tell you that living is worth the fight. We were born to feel the sun on our skin, our souls are made of light.
 
True friendship reveals itself when you have nothing, while true loyalty shines through when you have everything, yet you still cherish and appreciate your past friends.🙂
 
Sesquipedalian words, a scholar's delight. Onomatopoeia dances, igniting the night. Sound and syllable, a symphonic spree. In a language where laughter runs free.
 
Kashmir's kaleidoscope, colors collide.
Kissing the horizon, where beauty can't hide.
Kites in the sky, a captivating sight.
Kashmir's charm enchants, both day and night.
 
Duffle coat draped, distinctly divine.
Daringly dashing, a style so fine.
Daily donned, it delivers delight.
Duffle coat dreams, cozy and bright.
 
Silk Road's saga, secrets so bold.
Taklamakan Desert, tales untold.
Sands shifting softly, stories unfold.
Silken threads weave, in history's hold.
 
Fandango's flair, a festive dance.
Flashing feet fly, lost in a trance.
Frolicsome rhythms, joy in the air.
Fandango's fun, beyond compare.
 
Andalusian allure, artistry alive.
Amidst ancient arches, cultures thrive. Azure skies above, a vibrant scene.
Andalusian dreams, where history gleans.
 
Ethereal dreams drift, delicate and rare.
Embracing the night with a whispering care. Enigmatic visions in twilight's gleam.
Ethereal dreams weave a mystical theme.
 
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