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I stood on the ground and it crumbled away as if it wasn't there. My reality, my dreams gone. A lone rose in the snow, a frozen cage. I pray and pray but the snow never goes away. Secluded in a blizzard without mittens, the only warmth is from ashed cigarettes the ice age only exists in my head, it's summer time outside, lies so cold i become numb to the ice. I say i hate the snow but im addicted. When i try to escape the storm i go back in. it's what i know. The storm doesn't lie the sun brings heat and it won't snow. I live in my brain, my igloo,my solitude where i can be alone in the snow. But ve been walking on eggshells and got frostbite toes, i'm tired of tiptoeing to please the others until i realize that i'm alone. The flower frozen
It’s not only about the cold weather and land covered with white sheets of snow. The article is more about the joy and the beauty of nature. It also elaborates the warm feeling of dwellers that, how they welcome winter and celebrate it. Darcy Nybo portrays the beauty of mountains covered with white snow. She also wrote about the places to celebrate winter events for kids, friends, and families in Kelowna.
The man opens his eyes. He didn't know where he was or what his name was. He was a tall man about 6.1, and he had a blond crew cut covered in sand. His eyes were emerald green and had a confused look in them, like they were lost. His clothing was damp from the ocean.
This prompt is from a one line generator Prompt: She clung on to the piece of driftwood, praying for daylight. Please criticize it, but kindly. Tell me what I can do better and if you want more. Story-- She clung on to the piece of driftwood, praying for daylight. Darkness swarmed around her shielding her eyes from anything, she could only see the rough wood under her arms and the fierce rolling water around her body.
This exemplifies the season change and how it bares all of the imperfections that the snow shielded. Dead trees and unpleasant sights are exposed. This is true not only in physical surroundings, but also spiritually as well. People buried their thoughts and feelings much like the snow did the unpleasant landscape. People ignored the condition of their atmosphere and revealed no emotion or effort to change it.
Accompanying the vibrant flowers, rich, emerald hills lay below the sky; as sunlight ignited the horizon, the dew-sheltered grass glistened beneath fluffy cotton candy clouds that were pressed against the gorgeous, sapphire sky. Circled above, birds hummed melodic tunes, each note resonating in the air; the wind responded with its sweet, delicate breeze. An overpowering, yet sugary fragrant travelled through the crisp air, attacking the noses of the several people that passed by. Gazing into the distance, passersby were incapable of consuming the exquisiteness of the landscape.
This view of the imagery helps the reader understand the narrator’s loneliness. Instead of using words that convey the loneliness and emotions of the narrator, he instead describes the field to reflect the emotions. In the second stanza, Frost describes the scenery surrounding the field in the same way. He explains that there are “woods around” the field. Inside the forest there are “animals [that] are smothered in their lairs” (6).
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
Like a razor-sharp knife slicing through delicate skin, the echoing howl of the wind pierced violently through the eerie silence simultaneously as clouds of charcoal ominously replaced the azure blue sky, hinting the start of a treacherous storm. As she quickened her pace along the uneven trail, the twisted, claw-like branches of the tortuous trees stretched out in all directions, determined to seize anything or anyone that stood in their way. Slithering amidst the blood-splattered trees that surrounded her, the vindictive coils of formidable fog cruelly pinched the tips of her frail fingers, driving her into deeper panic as she anxiously darted toward a narrow cave-like passageway. Chilling sensations rushed down her spine, sending goose-bumps to break out like an infectious disease across her body as she tried to take in the new surrounding. The rugged walls which made up the passageway seemed to edge closer and closer together as she ventured further into the dark abyss, restricting her from any form of movement.
I woke with a start. A cool breeze was wafting through the shack. I sat up on my bed, well it was more like a few tree limbs tied together for a mattress with a single blanket, but still it was a bed. I stood up and walked to the wall and pushed away the curtain. The sun shone bright as I looked across the sand to the ocean.
“OH MY GOODNESS!” , my friend Ruby screams as we come up to my house. “What?”, I said. I ran up to where she was on the porch and saw that the front door was slightly open. I burst into my house and find everything in shambles.
...ture poetry. I could picture a winter scene: "As the breeze rises" and the effect of "the sun's warmth" on the sheaths of ice covering the tree branches. But this is where I ended the scene. I did not picture the shattering of ice "on the snow crust" like "heaps of broken glass to sweep away." Initially, I did not get the
The setting of the poem is on the edge of the woods nearby a frozen lake. There is a peaceful and enchanting snowfall and the sky is very dark
and it looked as though God was going to pour down his wrath at any
We walked through the glistening white fields. The snow seemed to stretch endlessly and only the tall oak trees stood proudly pressed upon by the whiteness and cold of winter. Yet a tiny little thing caught my eye, a flower. Blood red flowers defiantly stood, their beauty magnified hundredfold by the surrounding glistening snow. I knelt before their beauty and saw their petals swayed gently under the northern wind, as if dancing seductively.
I like snow day, like a person in the snow, a quiet, especially such a quiet night, in the face of the sky, the earth, and my around, is a piece of white, now seems to be my own inner world, also the same as the surrounding environment, pure and clean and empty.That night, I have no sleep, in the vast snowy day, don't know why suddenly reminds me so much, in the snow world, my mind seems to be settling, my heart is purified, unhappiness disappear without a trace.In the boundless in the snow, I also became a snowman, hugging the beautiful angel, enjoy the beauty of the