All Right

Posted in Uncategorized on May 16, 2010 by Wintrya

I will not live long, here and there or any elsewhere it does not matter. I never wanted to live long.

Time comes along with Eternity, and I am given as much time as I would ever need. I own my time.

And yet, I still wasted too much of it. With *you, -you, and ~you. Even though there were such happy days, our golden days, those days when we could laugh along each other, those days when I remembered your names, those days when I could wail like any wicked, indifferent child…
Until the dream crumbled. The flowers had decayed and the guardian had fallen, before your eyes. The widow mourned, the birds cried and I lost my tears.

I realised never did I care about anything I had been through. That realisation, for once and ever it is true.

Awakened. In your arms, I made my return.
But very, very soon after that… Vesper sky, my beloved vesper sky was cracked, darkness fell and whispered into the troubled water, that lay about the death of a young, so very young prince. I let myself drown in the poison that you had tasted.

If I could really feel, I would have felt how much you loved me.
I never wanted to live long, but I had never lived that short. Those years were not enough for anything.

And your smile was beautiful. Though my interest withers faster than the dimmest of my memories.

The next time as I opened my eyes, Time found me back again. And Time is never the certain someone that we all despise. First November, I met up with those whom I could hardly ever forget. We went through thousands and thousands of Novembers under a most magnificent dome built with purest glass. The pure glass that was beautifully, beautifully stained. The barrow for us all.

Born broken, born twisted, born wicked and born fathomless. Those on the crown of both worlds, my favourite companies. None beloved, but who would ever need that?

With love and darkness, they vanished with no remain. With love and darkness, the ordeal was done and the path was drawn.

And you found me back again. Our path, beyond an olden dream.

Everything shall once again be united, the third is always the last and the fourth is apart for ever. Smiled the lost children. Never-ending darkness. The Moment was rambled and the mourning was buried together with one’s sorrowful grave.




The Mad March Hare~

Posted in Uncategorized on February 21, 2010 by Wintrya

March is coming.

March means spring, that I hate. Not as bad as my hatred for summer, but I never like spring. Spring is just too lush, and that alone is too much for me.

However, it’s not spring that I’m talking about.

The Mad March Hare

Are you still roaming somewhere over the emerald meadow?

The Mad March Hare

Are  you still running wild down the valley of ever-whispering wind?

The Mad March Hare

It’s time for you to come home, it’s time to open your long forgotten mailbox

The Mad March Hare

It’s time for our un-birthday tea party

The Mad March Hare

Quick, head for home

Along with the children, before the nightfall

The Mad March Hare

Come, before March ends

when you are dead again somewhere over the emerald meadow



Posted in Uncategorized on February 7, 2010 by Wintrya

He was a child with no name given, found as a heathen and raised as one.

The first thing that child knew about, something not of himself, was the sea surrounding him. During his finest sunny days, the azure water surface that softly sparkled to bright sunlight would draw the most beautiful scene to the child, though he never had that many sunny days throughout his time, for his land is rooted within the polar regions. For the rest of the time he would just sit atop a rough cliff, gazing upon the sullen water that ran beyond all kinds’ sight. He thought he knew the sea well, but he actually did not. He met another child one day who looked just slightly older than himself, but he has a part of the Northern Sea named after his own. That one whose deep drowsy eyes carried a fathomless dark blue, whose heart was like the darkest depths of the ocean, too cold to love truly yet not big enough to be left unconnected. He also found this child extremely beautiful, in both ways and especially during the finest days of their lands, when he could feel wordless delight in every stretch of the water.

The child, though did not own a name, had his own sky for he lived on an isolated, unnamed island. Or at least that was what he believed. His sky was sombre in pale lavender, soaring all out of his reach and kept illuminating everything on Earth with different colours though in the same pale, sullen shade. Everything on Earth, especially the water, especially the sea. Time went by since he got his first visitor who grew to be almost a brother to him, and one day his brother brought another visitor, who simply came to make everything go wrong. The child had never seen someone who smiled and laughed that much, his smiles full of life and his laughter vibrant like the sounds of endless waves flapping ashore. The child had never seen someone so vigorous, to the point he appeared to be so much of a nuisance that his plaguing over everyone was visible. Someone who possessed such strong aarmies and boats, someone who possessed his brother, someone who had conquered enourmous parts of both sea and land, someone so powerful. No matter what he owned, he was boundless without any balance, would he not be afraid to someday become the world’s biggest lonely kid? Just like the sky himself.

The Chronicle of Our Time

Posted in Uncategorized on February 6, 2010 by Wintrya


But I might have been wrong at the very first place. I might have known lies, the whole thing could be a joke, and I might not be even standing here.

As if I care, though.

O all I actually want to do is just to keep myself entertained.

And I forget things easily. I need a reminder to keep me aware that I never even exist in this world. I ignore things even faster, which is why more witnesses are in need.

Hello and smile

Posted in Uncategorized on February 6, 2010 by Wintrya

Boredom is a solitary joy of mine

I down it through idle swings of the night