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Neftoon-Zamora

Nez
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Gallery

Literature

Proof

Just under my skin, Love’s sweet reminder, You’re my hidden sin. We couldn’t be blinder, As the world spins around, Kisses keep it kinder. A forgotten clown, Diamond formed from coal, Transcending force found. This inking makes me whole, Recalls to me your soul.

All

84 deviations
Inked

Featured

85 deviations
Literature

The Owl's Lament

Engorged moon on the rise, Stars winking a paler shade, In the quiet he can be heard, Repeating word often prayed. Throaty sounds on the wind, A ruffle of feathers in jest, Glowing orbs of gold light, Mourn now the lover’s quest. Uguku's sorrowful call, Echoing through the lands, Seeking out his loving wife, Within natures every strand. Doomed to a life alone, Deceit takes a lonely toll, Hunting is a daunting task, If only he could reach her goal. If only If only

Native American Poems

20 deviations
Literature

Sing Me the Blues

Supernatural strokes along the neck, Finger frets painting rhymes in time, Thunderous riff refusing to release, Chilled comfort, submersion's prime. I sing shake me, break me, make me. You reply hold me, fold me, mold me. Angelic voice quavering sounds, Fractured lines of stammered song, Refraction, reflection, where am I? Searching, seeking all night long. I sing shake me, break me, make me. You reply hold me, fold me, mold me. Silent hisses in resonant tones, The truth hidden within the clef, Prism shines cascading colours, Previously profoundly deaf. We sing hold me, fold me, mold me. We sing hold me, fold me, mold me.

Songs

15 deviations
Literature

My Tarnished Knight

Sun glinting through clouds Forming shadows beneath us Ink blots on a page - Sully the pristine vision My knight in tarnished armour.

Misc

9 deviations
Literature

The Pond

Said Dragonfly to Fishy in the deep green sea, Come along my love and follow me. Said Fishy to his lady above, To the shore and back on fins of love. Racing through the murky deep, Dragonfly cannot help but weep, For she sees the ripples Fishy makes, Leaving a trail in his wake. Tears falling as drops of rain, In the shadow of the whooping crane, Not a sound can she utter to be heard, To alert her love to the presence of the bird. For in her haste to reach the branches’ hold, The distance between them grew too cold, And Fishy’s fate, though fickle and trite, Allowed her another day of daunting flight.

Fotofriday-Workshop

9 deviations
Blithe Spirit Set

Theatre

15 deviations
Action Hal

Photos

8 deviations
A Touch of Japan

Paintings

1 deviation
More Moons

Scraps

4 deviations