SilentStar

Joe

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Icy Waters by SilentStar, literature

Literature

Icy Waters

There is no silence that can stifle the subtle cries of an angered soul, glistening behind placated eyes of acceptance and sorrow. Little can mend the glass ignorantly shattered, and silent are the shards hitting the floor against a cool breeze. Hope cannot be found in these words, for even losers can hope to win the game past when the flow of time beads against them. With water lapping gracefully, the ice is like daggers that won't cease until the dam breaks, or until light melts the ice away.

The Light and the Dark by SilentStar, literature

Literature

The Light and the Dark

There were no words, yet everything was said. Staring out the window created a blindness, that covered the truth, and masked the emotionless vessel from the world outside. and the other way around. The silence created a comfort, shadowed all remorse, all regret. But not the burning inside. She could not silence the cries, that shattered the light, and brought darkness. She was the darkness, and the other way around. The rain beat on the window, as did her head; in a controlled repetition. A cold repetition. And there were no words, only the silent thuds of the wheels on pavement, the rain on the car, and the guilt on the win

My Very Existence by SilentStar, literature

Literature

My Very Existence

the puppets dance so loosely through the endless void of everything that surrounds my very existence. everything I know I love, I cherish, everything I see around me makes me feel as though emptiness will follow me throughout the entirety of my lowly existence and that I might move ahead of the racing melodies which so gracefully play a melancholy song of infinite words and infinite dreams of infinite possibilities to surround and to fill so the threshold I cross is no more than a note passing playfully by in my own delusion of vivid memories that were nothing more and they do not stop for any which way or any body w

Three Lives by SilentStar, literature

Literature

Three Lives

My life as a lover, starts with the sunrise, when the gloomy day longs, for a breath of fresh air, and gets nothing more, than a gagging gulp of smoke. I am the light. The light that shines, on her existence, and lifts it to a bearable level. One more viable. And for her, and her love, I am a lover. My life as a soldier, begins when I must love, and when I protect love, at all costs. Not just my heart, but the heart of those, who love pure, and true. But for my own selfish reason, I cannot commit to the pursuit, of love or loves cause. So despite all the hardship, and despite all the terror, through loves lost gate,

A Perfect Day by SilentStar, literature

Literature

A Perfect Day

I find it funny how the day, always seems to match my mood, and I will never know whether, it was the day that made me sad, or my sadness that made the day. The gloominess hides my face, from the gloominess all the same, and I appear as a shadow, To those who look upon, my withered face. My chest feels cold, As does the air, And I feel that I am to blame, for the day being so sad. Then the day starts crying, and the water trickles down my face, and all the while I feel, as though it was my sorrow, that ruined a perfect day. But I will never know, and will always wonder, if it was the day that made me sad, or my sadness,

Pertaining to Nothing by SilentStar, literature

Literature

Pertaining to Nothing

I don't want to let go. I don't want to hold on. I can't take the stress of the voices as they tell me to move on, to let go, to throw away everything, at the cost of everything, to obtain everything, and within everything I determine that I am nothing, and I see nothing, and I feel nothing, and I hold out my hands, and I receive nothing, I taste nothing, and I breathe nothing, and I hear nothing, and I realize, it's everything. Everything I am. Everything I can be. Everything I will become. And yet it is nothing. It was a breakthrough to discover that I am still confused about everything pertaining to nothing.

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the tipping point by chickenlittle, literature

Literature

the tipping point

I want to slide back, quietly as possible, into the teeming muck. I lie collapsing, taking in the stillness around me and my body; My mind wanders up and up, towards the tipping point, tips and falls. Flat on the ground, a haze of reeds and grass and flowers draw up around me. I lie collapsing, taking in the stillness around me and my body. Quaking, shaking, lacking the strength, again I try; again I fail. Flat on the ground, a haze of reeds and grass and flowers draw up around me. I see it, seething before me with life and stillness, so murky my eyes cloud. Quaking, shaking, lacking the strength, again I try; again I fail; Somethi

Deviation Spotlight

A Dance at Midnight by SilentStar, visual art

A Dance at Midnight

SilentStar

About SilentStar

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Japan
Deviant for 19 years
He / Him

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I Heart DeviantArt Gear: Proud supporter of deviantGEAR

My Bio

Current Residence: Nebraska
Personal Quote: ...?

Favourite Visual Artist

Tadashi Nakayama

Other Interests

Anime, Art, Astronomy, Hockey, Philosophy, Physics, Poetry, Travel

Posts

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SilentStar

Apr 24, 2007

Don't hold your breath...

0 min read

I didn't realize it had been so long...

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SilentStar

Mar 16, 2006

Cruelty and Silence

0 min read

Fate can be so cruel...so unforgiving... The ticking of time almost always brings sorrow, and even if you jump into life knowing this cruel destiny, it still rips you to shreds when it becomes reality... A cruel fate indeed...what is the point of success if it only makes you that much lonelier? Such a paradox, time is. Our best friend and our worst enemy. We want it and don't want it at the same time, whether we realize it or not. What are material things when you cannot trade it for even one second. A second more to livea second more to lovea second more of happinessthus making every second even the more precious. Hell

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SilentStar

Jul 23, 2005

Lost

0 min read

Isn't it all about escape? About expression of repressed anger and sorrow that fills the void left through persistent social ineptitude? When does it become about the pageviews, the favorites, the watches and the compliments? When do we get so enveloped in our own talents that we miss what made us talented to begin with? We cannot please everyone. There is no use in trying, but still people do. And those they cannot please become enemies, for they are stupid, or ignorant, or conceited, or in some other way flawed in a way in which they can't truly appreciate the gift you offer to them in your own self-righteous works. But for some, after re