The Day She Died.

She died the day she turned 20.

It attacked her and destroyed who she was. It stole her heart and everything that mattered. She was left lying on the ground, with only a body of air and dirt. Nevertheless, she stood up again and faced the sun. In its haste, it left a piece of her soul. She took one step at a time back to life.

But it came back for it.

At that moment, she laughed. Her body shook uncontrollably. “Take it all, take it all,” she said. Because being 20 made her realise that Life was indeed merciless. And she was left with nothing.

She was only 20, and yet, she was dead, dead in an empty bottle; still she was living, living in death. She kept on taking one step at a time, into certain nothingness. She bumped into other bodies; she met with new experiences. Life was being thrown at her but she could not return the favour.

She might as well have been a porcelain doll. She was played with, but she could not play with.
performer

This picture was taken during our annual Monash ball 2015 at the Majestic Hotel and features a real performer, posing as a kind of statue.

An Evil Nymph.

Weekly Photo Challenge | Beginning

For a beginning, there has to be an ending.

Death of something. Here’s this drying rose.

dying red rose

Hello 2014! 

This new year is a chance to start over.

A new routine!

Write at least 1,000 words per day.

Read everyday so as to complete the Goodreads Reading Challenge (50).

Wish me luckūüėČ

Feel free to add me as a friend on Goodreads!

Also, I opened a new Instagram account, so you can now find my photos, such as the rose I used for this week’s challenge, @dkwaye !

I’m sorry that my first post of 2014 is a bit late, but I was caught up in my new routine, as well as planning for my future (university and stuff)ūüėõ

Anyway, have a great week!

Stay positive!

An Evil Nymph.

Come To The Ocean Of Love…

Happy Labour Day everyone!

This week’s Picture it & Write comes a little earlier this week, because there’s going to be a surprise on FridayūüėČ So stay tuned!

All right, so without delay, enjoy my contribution:

ocean of love

Come to the ocean of love…¬†

My ears sprang up; I put down my cup of tea and daily newspaper and reached out to the radio.

…seven seas…

I turned up the volume.

Come to the ocean of love…

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Burnt And Cold: A Poem

                                                                             Burnt and Cold
                                                                       Consumed         Timber
                                                                Heartless                       Soul
                                                            In My Tomb  
                                                           And Hers                    Nonsense Lies
                                                             Happy                                    Mess
                                                                 Is Unknown                   To You
                                                                   Anger
                                                                      Hatred
                                                                          And Only                Never
                                                                             Faith Maybe              She
                                                                                 But Hope            Is Gone
                                                                                      All Lost
                                                                                          To Die
                                                                                              In Her Arms    Lies
                                                                                                  Or Mine        To Me
                                                                                                         Turns Away.

By D. Kwong Waye

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