Flames were consuming what was left of his darkened soul, a moment of madness led him to believe that not a thing could be different anymore. Nothing was as comforting as the embrace of such element, yet nothing could be as hostile as the rings that were now settled around his being. Slowly his breath shortened; slowly he stopped breathing.
flames into the fire, the fire who’s on me, in me death, in all my ghosts. Remember who i was, and who i never be, just remeber the flames in the heart of the brave, the brave that’s no me.
flames are very hard to endure especially in summer. They have burning effect to hands and skin. They even can hurt heart with the flames of love, for me flames is a word that is used in literture and many writers use it.
The flames engulfed her body, melting her skin against her bones and burning the ends of her hair. She flailed helplessly, unsure of what to do. She could not hear her thoughts of the blood-curdlng screams of herself and those around her. People ran every which way, panic dancing in their eyes. The flames licked the walls around her, destroying any evidence of the neat floral wall print that had been there only seconds before. Above her, she heard the support beams begin to crack. The windows down the hall exploded in what sounded like gunfire and the flames shot from the windows in a desperate attempt for oxygen. Oxygen. Oxygen, she realized, was something he no longer had. As the fire burned through her, making its way to her heart and her brain, she could feel her lungs tighten, losing all will to live without the air to sustain her body.
The flames burn ever so brightly against the starry, dark sky. The cold wind gushing through the flames, encouraging it to rise higher and higher. With every blow, the flames grows stronger. Humans could take a lesson or two, you don’t fall when getting pushed over, you just stand up stronger every time.
Up in flames is how she went, but she was content with how it ended. Smoke inhalation was what got to her, it was painful, but better than the alternative. The alternative, that was the last thought to cross her mind.
omg. omg i am juis tooo scared of flames, it makes me think of fire, the heat the tension and most of all pain, i am a cool minded person. but falmes could be good too as in your thinking means you are full of energy and creative
Roaring flames, of Fiery red, Sunset orange, and Golden orange fill the fireplace. Smells of burning firewood, and coal surround the room, as they slowly turn to ash. Crackling and popping is heard from the ferociously roaring fire.
I pray that you never feel a love like mine;
A love so dysfunctional, so impossible to define.
I hope you find one that doesn’t poison you, but heals
That you never have to know the way that loving you feels.
Roaring flames fill the fireplace. Sounds of Crackling and spitting fill the room, as the burning logs turn slowly to ashes. Reds oranges and yellows light up the place
THE FLAMES BURST FROM THE BUILDING. LICKING AND CRACKLING AT THE MIDNIGHT SKY. I HOPED THAT SHE WAS TRAPPED INSIDE, PINNED BENEATH SMOLDERING GARBGE, CONSUMED, LUNGS FILLED W/BLACK SMOKE, CHOKING AND SUFFERING IN THE FLAMES.
As the princess dove off of the bridge, no one noticed. Her regular antics that provoked attention from her supposed peers did not work among this crowd. Was it because of the unknown importance that she had? Offended by the crowd’s obliviousness, to her specialness, she sulked away, returning to her stronghold.
Love is like a flame. it burns. But not all loves are like that. the real ones are not. just the ones that die fast, that are blind and fullish. the real ones doesnt burn you.
Crying in the rain. How cliched. Still, it was exactly what I was doing, my tears mingling with the raindrops.
We’re almost never like we seem.
I may look like a peaceful, good-natured and reasonably happy person, from the outside, but I’m not.
Inside me there’s war, destruction, inside me a fire always burns, inside me flames of unrelenting anger, heating, inflaming.
But there’s something that can’t be heated, inside me. My heart will always be cold as ice.
Flames were consuming what was left of his darkened soul, a moment of madness led him to believe that not a thing could be different anymore. Nothing was as comforting as the embrace of such element, yet nothing could be as hostile as the rings that were now settled around his being. Slowly his breath shortened; slowly he stopped breathing.
flames into the fire, the fire who’s on me, in me death, in all my ghosts. Remember who i was, and who i never be, just remeber the flames in the heart of the brave, the brave that’s no me.
flames are very hard to endure especially in summer. They have burning effect to hands and skin. They even can hurt heart with the flames of love, for me flames is a word that is used in literture and many writers use it.
The flames engulfed her body, melting her skin against her bones and burning the ends of her hair. She flailed helplessly, unsure of what to do. She could not hear her thoughts of the blood-curdlng screams of herself and those around her. People ran every which way, panic dancing in their eyes. The flames licked the walls around her, destroying any evidence of the neat floral wall print that had been there only seconds before. Above her, she heard the support beams begin to crack. The windows down the hall exploded in what sounded like gunfire and the flames shot from the windows in a desperate attempt for oxygen. Oxygen. Oxygen, she realized, was something he no longer had. As the fire burned through her, making its way to her heart and her brain, she could feel her lungs tighten, losing all will to live without the air to sustain her body.
Heat. Washing over her body, she could feel it searing her porcelain skin. She knew this was it. She had died, and she was in hell.
The flames burn ever so brightly against the starry, dark sky. The cold wind gushing through the flames, encouraging it to rise higher and higher. With every blow, the flames grows stronger. Humans could take a lesson or two, you don’t fall when getting pushed over, you just stand up stronger every time.
Up in flames is how she went, but she was content with how it ended. Smoke inhalation was what got to her, it was painful, but better than the alternative. The alternative, that was the last thought to cross her mind.
omg. omg i am juis tooo scared of flames, it makes me think of fire, the heat the tension and most of all pain, i am a cool minded person. but falmes could be good too as in your thinking means you are full of energy and creative
Roaring flames, of Fiery red, Sunset orange, and Golden orange fill the fireplace. Smells of burning firewood, and coal surround the room, as they slowly turn to ash. Crackling and popping is heard from the ferociously roaring fire.
I pray that you never feel a love like mine;
A love so dysfunctional, so impossible to define.
I hope you find one that doesn’t poison you, but heals
That you never have to know the way that loving you feels.
Flames, fire, life. Without these detrimental things, humans would not live the way that they do today.
Roaring flames fill the fireplace. Sounds of Crackling and spitting fill the room, as the burning logs turn slowly to ashes. Reds oranges and yellows light up the place
THE FLAMES BURST FROM THE BUILDING. LICKING AND CRACKLING AT THE MIDNIGHT SKY. I HOPED THAT SHE WAS TRAPPED INSIDE, PINNED BENEATH SMOLDERING GARBGE, CONSUMED, LUNGS FILLED W/BLACK SMOKE, CHOKING AND SUFFERING IN THE FLAMES.
As the princess dove off of the bridge, no one noticed. Her regular antics that provoked attention from her supposed peers did not work among this crowd. Was it because of the unknown importance that she had? Offended by the crowd’s obliviousness, to her specialness, she sulked away, returning to her stronghold.
Love is like a flame. it burns. But not all loves are like that. the real ones are not. just the ones that die fast, that are blind and fullish. the real ones doesnt burn you.
Crying in the rain. How cliched. Still, it was exactly what I was doing, my tears mingling with the raindrops.
We’re almost never like we seem.
I may look like a peaceful, good-natured and reasonably happy person, from the outside, but I’m not.
Inside me there’s war, destruction, inside me a fire always burns, inside me flames of unrelenting anger, heating, inflaming.
But there’s something that can’t be heated, inside me. My heart will always be cold as ice.
fire