Really old thing I dug up. Because I was reminded of it.
Elise stood before two paths. Upland trail, read the sign, rickety and made of moss eaten and decaying wood. And Downback Thickets, indicated its sister sign.
What a lonely, bleak place, Elise pondered. She looked skyward. The surrounding trees were rather intrusive, blocking her view of the foggy-quartz sky.
She nudged at a rock with her big toe.
Her big toe?!
“Where are my shoes?” She muttered aloud. When had she Остаться в живых them? How hadn’t she noticed the mud squishing between her toes? She looked over the ground.
No sign of her Uggs anywhere.
All she received was an indication of rain; ground spotted with queer puddles that seemed to ripple in the chilly wind and stand still all at once.
She spotted a backless bench—made from the same semi-rotten wood as the signs. It rest beneath an autumn licked кленовый, клен tree.
The great кленовый, клен still had a full crown of leaves.
Deep orange.
Laced with spots of red.
Soon autumn would take a bite.
Strip it bare.
Elise wadded through freshly churned mud. She could still smell the rain on it.
She couldn’t help but to cringe as her foot pulled up with a slurp.
It’s not raining, she noted, and get yet her skin still felt moist. It wasn’t quite a drizzle, what the air was doing, еще lie a wet mist.
That was it. Her skin was being showered by nature’s breathy kiss.
Elise kicked aside some leaves before plopping down on the bench. She lifted her left leg and plucked a leaf from her heel. She tapped her toes on the ground.
She faced skyward again, watching as fall blew another sneeze of leaves to the ground.
A spiraling dance.
How serene. She released a content sigh.
Where am I, how did I get here? She wondered halfheartedly. None of it actually seemed to matter.
She was just there, and that’s all that mattered.
“Mind if I sit?”
It was as if the old man had metralized himself from the mist. Elise didn’t recall seeing him on either path.
She didn’t recall seeing anyone at all, come to think of it.
In fact, she couldn’t even recall walking any trail at all.
“Yes. Please do.”
The bench creaked as her rocked his weight trying to get comfy.
“What I would give for a warm glass of cider.” She laughed.
He returned the chuckle, “Aye, if the trees came with cider dispensers I’d come around here еще often.”
Elise’s face brightened. He reminded her of her grandpappy.
She missed him dearly.
“Of course I’m here often anyhow.” He tipped his plaid brown-black hat.
“Why is that?”
“I’m a tour guide of sorts, if Ты will.”
“Oh! Good thing!” She exclaimed, “I am a bit confused here. Where are my shoes for one thing?”
“That I can’t answer. No, love, that is something only Ты know. After all, this forest is as Ты want to see it.”
“As I want to see it?” Elise fidgeted her fingers.
“Let’s bac up a little, shall we love?” He stood. “Tell me, do Ты have the time?”
“Time? Hmmm.” Elise drummed her pointer against her lips.
Funny, she hadn’t thought about time since arriving in the forest.
It just seemed so trivial.
“I don’t have the time, sir.” She answered apologetically.
He glanced at his own wrist watch, hands Холодное сердце at 12:02. “It would seem that I don’t either.” He chuckled, tapping the broken watch. “Never did get around to fixing this damn thing. In fact, I think it came broken. No matter, I never had time for time anyhow.”
“What do Ты mean?”
“Never mind. Time isn’t important. No. Not when there’s something much еще important for Ты to see.”
Strange man, this man.
He knocked his cane upon the maple’s trunk.
A cough of leaves fell at his feet, he walked quickly to pick them up. Elise’s eyes couldn’t leave that cane: a polished wood thing, intricate carvings of birds and spindly human figures, of dead trees and odd symbols etched deep in. Such details were highlighted in gold, it was as if someone took a Золото thread and carefully pressed it along each carving.
His nobby fingers curled over the bird skull grip.
“Hold this if Ты ill.” He handed Elise a sizable leaf.
She nodded and too hold of it.
“Now focus on that leaf.” He instructed.
Very strange man. And yet something compelled her oblige. She sat quietly on the bench not exactly sure of what she should be seeing in the leaf’s translucent skin.
And then it swirled into view.
On the surface of the leaf, like a projector screen.
Her face.
Lily, her sister Lily!
Right on the skin of the leaf, she watched a very fond childhood memory play out.
It was an August day; mother had finally taken them to the park. On that день the sun peered over the clouds warm and bright. The sisters could find no better way to spend it than holding hands on the seesaw. Rocking up and down and talking about bright hopes for the coming year.
Elise watched her child self giggle.
And then the leaf crumbled, flaking away as the memory ended.
The old man shuffled though a pile of leaves. “It’s in here somewhere, part two is.” Grumbling to himself he tossed a leaf over his shoulder and another. Leaf after leaf with a “nope” или a “no that’s not right.”
“It’s alright, I know what happens after that.” Elise spoke. “The two of us get off the seesaw and race to the свинг, качели set.”
The old man nodded. “Very well then.” He then pointed up to the forest’s canopy. “Each leave holds a single and small snippet of a memory. оранжевый are joyful, red are mournful.” He paused. “It would seem that Ты own a happy life.” He offered her a warm wrinkly smile.
Elise nodded.
“What is this place?”
“It is a place of decisions.” He strode over to the rotting signs. “You have three paths to take—you can stay here. Ты can go Upland или Downback.”
“Here is nice.” Else mumbled to herself.
“Yes, Here is nice. But here is frozen.” He poked at his watch, “Here is timeless, Here gets lonely after a while.”
Elise looked at her other two options.
Downback.
It had a cold air about it. Dense and dead.
She dared to step вперед for a closer look. Each дерево stood tall like famine-marred figures, their gangly branches reaching invasively at her as if they’d pluck her right off the trail the минута she ventured onto it. Each knot and ridge in the bark seemed to stir up some sinister image.
She looked then, at her bare feet, and to the thorny thickets littering the path to Downback.
Upland seemed much еще inviting in comparison to Downback’s gloom. Though it was still dressed in a veil of fog, slithering over the dirt, there were many dancing dsun beams penetrating the grey. Instead of thorns, pine needles, and sharp stones, the path to Upland (though made of dead grass) was dotted with flowers.
Like tiny stars in a dark sky.
A dead куст, буш sporting tiny red barriers seemed to bid her to the path.
She put a foot on the trail.
The трава was rather rough, but not unpleasant on her feet.
Elise cast a glance over her shoulder—spilling a cascade of auburn hair. The old man smiled and with a tip of his hat said, “I would agree, Ты belong to the Upland. He’ll welcome Ты home.” With his cane he brused aside some stray brambles.
He tugged at his long brown верблюд куртка and extended a boney arm.
A skeletal hand.
“Shall we?”
Elise stood before two paths. Upland trail, read the sign, rickety and made of moss eaten and decaying wood. And Downback Thickets, indicated its sister sign.
What a lonely, bleak place, Elise pondered. She looked skyward. The surrounding trees were rather intrusive, blocking her view of the foggy-quartz sky.
She nudged at a rock with her big toe.
Her big toe?!
“Where are my shoes?” She muttered aloud. When had she Остаться в живых them? How hadn’t she noticed the mud squishing between her toes? She looked over the ground.
No sign of her Uggs anywhere.
All she received was an indication of rain; ground spotted with queer puddles that seemed to ripple in the chilly wind and stand still all at once.
She spotted a backless bench—made from the same semi-rotten wood as the signs. It rest beneath an autumn licked кленовый, клен tree.
The great кленовый, клен still had a full crown of leaves.
Deep orange.
Laced with spots of red.
Soon autumn would take a bite.
Strip it bare.
Elise wadded through freshly churned mud. She could still smell the rain on it.
She couldn’t help but to cringe as her foot pulled up with a slurp.
It’s not raining, she noted, and get yet her skin still felt moist. It wasn’t quite a drizzle, what the air was doing, еще lie a wet mist.
That was it. Her skin was being showered by nature’s breathy kiss.
Elise kicked aside some leaves before plopping down on the bench. She lifted her left leg and plucked a leaf from her heel. She tapped her toes on the ground.
She faced skyward again, watching as fall blew another sneeze of leaves to the ground.
A spiraling dance.
How serene. She released a content sigh.
Where am I, how did I get here? She wondered halfheartedly. None of it actually seemed to matter.
She was just there, and that’s all that mattered.
“Mind if I sit?”
It was as if the old man had metralized himself from the mist. Elise didn’t recall seeing him on either path.
She didn’t recall seeing anyone at all, come to think of it.
In fact, she couldn’t even recall walking any trail at all.
“Yes. Please do.”
The bench creaked as her rocked his weight trying to get comfy.
“What I would give for a warm glass of cider.” She laughed.
He returned the chuckle, “Aye, if the trees came with cider dispensers I’d come around here еще often.”
Elise’s face brightened. He reminded her of her grandpappy.
She missed him dearly.
“Of course I’m here often anyhow.” He tipped his plaid brown-black hat.
“Why is that?”
“I’m a tour guide of sorts, if Ты will.”
“Oh! Good thing!” She exclaimed, “I am a bit confused here. Where are my shoes for one thing?”
“That I can’t answer. No, love, that is something only Ты know. After all, this forest is as Ты want to see it.”
“As I want to see it?” Elise fidgeted her fingers.
“Let’s bac up a little, shall we love?” He stood. “Tell me, do Ты have the time?”
“Time? Hmmm.” Elise drummed her pointer against her lips.
Funny, she hadn’t thought about time since arriving in the forest.
It just seemed so trivial.
“I don’t have the time, sir.” She answered apologetically.
He glanced at his own wrist watch, hands Холодное сердце at 12:02. “It would seem that I don’t either.” He chuckled, tapping the broken watch. “Never did get around to fixing this damn thing. In fact, I think it came broken. No matter, I never had time for time anyhow.”
“What do Ты mean?”
“Never mind. Time isn’t important. No. Not when there’s something much еще important for Ты to see.”
Strange man, this man.
He knocked his cane upon the maple’s trunk.
A cough of leaves fell at his feet, he walked quickly to pick them up. Elise’s eyes couldn’t leave that cane: a polished wood thing, intricate carvings of birds and spindly human figures, of dead trees and odd symbols etched deep in. Such details were highlighted in gold, it was as if someone took a Золото thread and carefully pressed it along each carving.
His nobby fingers curled over the bird skull grip.
“Hold this if Ты ill.” He handed Elise a sizable leaf.
She nodded and too hold of it.
“Now focus on that leaf.” He instructed.
Very strange man. And yet something compelled her oblige. She sat quietly on the bench not exactly sure of what she should be seeing in the leaf’s translucent skin.
And then it swirled into view.
On the surface of the leaf, like a projector screen.
Her face.
Lily, her sister Lily!
Right on the skin of the leaf, she watched a very fond childhood memory play out.
It was an August day; mother had finally taken them to the park. On that день the sun peered over the clouds warm and bright. The sisters could find no better way to spend it than holding hands on the seesaw. Rocking up and down and talking about bright hopes for the coming year.
Elise watched her child self giggle.
And then the leaf crumbled, flaking away as the memory ended.
The old man shuffled though a pile of leaves. “It’s in here somewhere, part two is.” Grumbling to himself he tossed a leaf over his shoulder and another. Leaf after leaf with a “nope” или a “no that’s not right.”
“It’s alright, I know what happens after that.” Elise spoke. “The two of us get off the seesaw and race to the свинг, качели set.”
The old man nodded. “Very well then.” He then pointed up to the forest’s canopy. “Each leave holds a single and small snippet of a memory. оранжевый are joyful, red are mournful.” He paused. “It would seem that Ты own a happy life.” He offered her a warm wrinkly smile.
Elise nodded.
“What is this place?”
“It is a place of decisions.” He strode over to the rotting signs. “You have three paths to take—you can stay here. Ты can go Upland или Downback.”
“Here is nice.” Else mumbled to herself.
“Yes, Here is nice. But here is frozen.” He poked at his watch, “Here is timeless, Here gets lonely after a while.”
Elise looked at her other two options.
Downback.
It had a cold air about it. Dense and dead.
She dared to step вперед for a closer look. Each дерево stood tall like famine-marred figures, their gangly branches reaching invasively at her as if they’d pluck her right off the trail the минута she ventured onto it. Each knot and ridge in the bark seemed to stir up some sinister image.
She looked then, at her bare feet, and to the thorny thickets littering the path to Downback.
Upland seemed much еще inviting in comparison to Downback’s gloom. Though it was still dressed in a veil of fog, slithering over the dirt, there were many dancing dsun beams penetrating the grey. Instead of thorns, pine needles, and sharp stones, the path to Upland (though made of dead grass) was dotted with flowers.
Like tiny stars in a dark sky.
A dead куст, буш sporting tiny red barriers seemed to bid her to the path.
She put a foot on the trail.
The трава was rather rough, but not unpleasant on her feet.
Elise cast a glance over her shoulder—spilling a cascade of auburn hair. The old man smiled and with a tip of his hat said, “I would agree, Ты belong to the Upland. He’ll welcome Ты home.” With his cane he brused aside some stray brambles.
He tugged at his long brown верблюд куртка and extended a boney arm.
A skeletal hand.
“Shall we?”
Vandals and crooks
an aging man, caught like a рыба on a hook
Getting reeled in, he's easy prey
Eyes sag, creating bags, pupils widen, creating paralysis
Confusion and fear
An ailing man, with рыба hooks everywhere
The biggest catch today
Pavement runs red, creating pain, flesh torn, creating animals
Torment and Horror
An aching man, aches no more
The рыба hook rips away
Smiles widen, creating youth, blood drips, creating paralysis
_________________________________________________
_________________________________________________
_________________________________________________
an aging man, caught like a рыба on a hook
Getting reeled in, he's easy prey
Eyes sag, creating bags, pupils widen, creating paralysis
Confusion and fear
An ailing man, with рыба hooks everywhere
The biggest catch today
Pavement runs red, creating pain, flesh torn, creating animals
Torment and Horror
An aching man, aches no more
The рыба hook rips away
Smiles widen, creating youth, blood drips, creating paralysis
_________________________________________________
_________________________________________________
_________________________________________________
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. Shrinking into myself, I began to run away. The man wouldn’t catch me. But something held me back. I went back to him and reappeared. “Help me.” I wasn’t even sure he heard me I сказал(-а) it so low. Suddenly, my body couldn’t take the pain. There was a buzzing in my ears, a pounding in my head, and spots in my vision. It was then the darkness swallowed me whole.
I don't talk about this on a sheet
I want to everybody see
What Ты do of me
I'm become a princess
with a knight who not fearless
I want to watch a cloudless sky
because my сердце and my eyes cry
Chorus
It is what I want
It is what I need
And never other thing
that the Любовь which I want
The only thing I know
It's I'm better when Ты are
Near to me, did Ты know?
And I want that Ты are
Chorus
It's like
I have a нож in my back
It's like
I don't can stay in the black
Without what I want
Without what I need
Chorus x3
You're all I want
I'll be what Ты need
And ever other thing
If it's what Ты want
People say Цветы are beautiful.
They're beautiful, that's true.
They also provide oxygen for us.
People say weeds are ugly.
They apparently have no value,
Nor do they deserve to live.
I'm not talking weeds that grow in the garden.
I'm talking about wild plants.
Well, weeds are flowers, too.
Just give them a chance.
Once Ты get to know them, they're amazing.
They can be just as pretty as flowers.
I may not be an orchid или a sunflower.
I may not be a rose или an iris.
I'm еще of a dandelion.
I may be a weed, but I'm not so bad.
Give me half a chance. I'm pretty neat.
So, weeds are flowers, too.
Get to know them. They're pretty great.
They're beautiful, that's true.
They also provide oxygen for us.
People say weeds are ugly.
They apparently have no value,
Nor do they deserve to live.
I'm not talking weeds that grow in the garden.
I'm talking about wild plants.
Well, weeds are flowers, too.
Just give them a chance.
Once Ты get to know them, they're amazing.
They can be just as pretty as flowers.
I may not be an orchid или a sunflower.
I may not be a rose или an iris.
I'm еще of a dandelion.
I may be a weed, but I'm not so bad.
Give me half a chance. I'm pretty neat.
So, weeds are flowers, too.
Get to know them. They're pretty great.
I will remember Ты always.
Will Ты remember me?
That is a Вопрос for Ты to answer,
And not me.
I promise
That I will always
Keep the flame of memory alive.
The fun that we had will never
Be forgotten.
Even on foggy evenings,
The darkest of nights,
Ты will always be in my heart.
For I know that Ты will help me
Keep the flame of memory blazing
Always.
All the good times that we had,
All the fun that we had,
All the tears that we let out,
All the anger we let out
Will never be wasted.
Because every минута of it
Is in my heart.
I will tend to the fire
Every night,
Recollecting all the memories we have
Knowing that the flame of memory
Is the brightest flame of all
And it will blaze on.
Will Ты remember me?
That is a Вопрос for Ты to answer,
And not me.
I promise
That I will always
Keep the flame of memory alive.
The fun that we had will never
Be forgotten.
Even on foggy evenings,
The darkest of nights,
Ты will always be in my heart.
For I know that Ты will help me
Keep the flame of memory blazing
Always.
All the good times that we had,
All the fun that we had,
All the tears that we let out,
All the anger we let out
Will never be wasted.
Because every минута of it
Is in my heart.
I will tend to the fire
Every night,
Recollecting all the memories we have
Knowing that the flame of memory
Is the brightest flame of all
And it will blaze on.