I use a torch to see out of the window into the trees to see the nocturnal animals scurrying in their habitats. This torch is a million candle light with a great beam which shines across my acreage and into the trees, zooming across the long grass. It catches, in it’s light, the glow of the horses eyes and, a rabbit bobs by.
Hold the torch higher, I can’t see ahead. There is something in the shadows that I can’t make out.
When the cavern was lit up it revealed an expanse the size of giant skyscrapers garnished with stalignites and the descending roots of trees.
They wept in silence as the flames passed to another child. The torch of awful shitty shit was happening. They were burning her poo at the alter and she couldn’t have been more sad about it. So the poo burnt, and everyone was sad. So they gave the prioress money, and she wept, and she kept it, all for the mighty Jesus. And also, someone had a torch.
She wept openly amongst her friends. The precipice was too steep for her to climb, and yet she knelt, begging them to move forward. The torch of her comrade burned brightly in between the fallen leaves, and she
It was barely visible, only the outline of her face was legible but it was clearly a beautiful painting he had gifted her. By torch light she was able to recognise herself in his mural….
The torch lit up the room, it’s light overwhelmed the darkness. It gave me warmth, it gave me a sense of security and safety. It had seemed to keep me confident in finding the exit, amongst the deep depths of these caves. The cave of my own depression.
She walked into the room and instantly I was transfixed.
Legs as long as a winter in Antarctica, a figure that would make an hourglass jealous and short, red hair so bright you could use it as a torch. As a matter of fact, of all of the people I met on that trip, no one could brighten my day more.
i used a torch at camp one time, i couldn’t see so what else was i supposed to do? i remember cooking in the dark with my family and it was so dark i couldn’t even see where i was cutting. AND I COULD HAVE CUT MY FINER
camping was fun, and the torch definitely came in handy :)
i am alone in the dark. i cant find a way out. help me. i need someone to find a torch and help me see through all of this. my eyes are blind and my heart is weakening and i can fix this i scream, i can fix this i swear. it is faltered and it is failing but just find the light for me and i will fix it.
He set fire to the whole city. He had not known what he had done. It was the fault of the people for creating a beast, for pushing him over the edge. They wanted to see what would happen. Well, they got their results.
Gabe set the flickering torch into the slot on the wall, the flame lights up the cold room in a faint orange light. The book he’s been looking for is sitting open on the desk in the room and the glimmering knife is askew on the table. Gabe licks his lips, says a silent prayer and then prepares the ritual.
And as I crossed the end of the line, I realized the reason I’d pushed myself harder than the sentinel in the highlighter yellow shoes was to impress him. But why? What insecurity fit inside 26.2 miles?
Torchlight reflected across the dingy stone passageway like sunlight beneath the water, always rippling, always distorting the things that lurked within the shadows, transforming mice to monsters, and monsters to mere imaginings.
The light exploded into the darkness. Blinding almost everyone at the site.
“That’s some pretty lethal mother of… torch, you got there,” Kurt exclaimed.
“I like to come prepared,” Steve replied with a grin.
we torched the night, exposing what we would. The morning would have long forgotten our actions, so we ran. And we didn’t think. I jumped so quickly, and the fire was extinguished.
Fire glistened across the surface of the mirror, the room illuminated by the torch. Cobwebs receded into the darkness of corners as light permeated the fog. The girl let go of the match and it fell to the floor forgotten as she stepped into the doorway.
His eyes meet mine and I see recognition flicker in his eyes. And then I feel it. That familiar flame, sparking to life in my chest, building into a fire on the torch of my heart.
The red light flashed as the entire building erupted in sound and movement from its occupents. “We need to evacuate!” Jack shouted from the stairs. “The whole place is gonna blow!”
Instead of the light of your torch, I need the fire of it so that it can turn into ashes a memoir just for a night. Torch this thought from my brain. Torch away the memories of your scent. I cannot sleep, I cannot eat, I cannot be since I heard you say the least. It’s been awhile, but I must sleep so please step from my mind come back another time. Torch this thought, please, s’il vous plaît, por favor… just for tonight.
Hot, kind of like a flame thrower in my mind. I feel like it’s used a lot in movies, especially in movies where the characters are in tunnels looking for treasure or something.
trying to spark this torch that is my life, needing to adventure, to escape, and grasp life for all that it is. it’s a shame it’s a slow burning torch that’s a struggle to light in the first place.
The light burns her eyes as she fumbles into a bush, the torch spinning around and hitting her instead of the ground that’s in front of her. She stills and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a minute and trying to get her bearings. Jesus it’s dark. Jesus it’s late. Jesus she’s cold.
She’s so very, very cold. But that doesn’t matter, because right now she has to find him. She clicks the torch back on.
I think of caves. I think of cheesy action movies, and claw marks. I think of hope, and I think of nothing but a burning stick, that will be gone just like everything and everyone. But that’s alright, because at least we have them now. At least we get to be reminded of caves, and cheesy movies and hope.
a shining beacon burned on the hilltop. The guardian of the Flame shivered as he looked out from his lampshade-shelter upon the windswept sodden landscape. Rain pelted his iron helm like an army of freezing arrows. But still, he kept watch, comforting himself with the knowledge that he was guarding a symbol of hope and a message for all weary travellers in the night.
In his heart he always kept a torch lit for her in the hopes that one day she would come to love him and see him as more than just a friend. Until then he waited.
Torchbearers was a question on my English test. I’m still not too sure what they do. Why does it matter? What a silly question for an English test. I’ve learned Shakespeare’s work was really insignificant throughout this school year. Some things written are brilliant, but its just old-style writing. He didn’t do anything special. He didn’t. He didn’t do anything. I promise. I think.
The torch lit up the dark, empty hallway as I crept around, looking for something valuable to steal so I can sell it and have enough money to eat this week.
I use a torch to see out of the window into the trees to see the nocturnal animals scurrying in their habitats. This torch is a million candle light with a great beam which shines across my acreage and into the trees, zooming across the long grass. It catches, in it’s light, the glow of the horses eyes and, a rabbit bobs by.
Hey sister light me fire and make it burn bright and let the sunshine in
Hold the torch higher, I can’t see ahead. There is something in the shadows that I can’t make out.
When the cavern was lit up it revealed an expanse the size of giant skyscrapers garnished with stalignites and the descending roots of trees.
what do yo do? Hou do you do?
Hou do spell Frida? Did you last nigth?
They wept in silence as the flames passed to another child. The torch of awful shitty shit was happening. They were burning her poo at the alter and she couldn’t have been more sad about it. So the poo burnt, and everyone was sad. So they gave the prioress money, and she wept, and she kept it, all for the mighty Jesus. And also, someone had a torch.
She wept openly amongst her friends. The precipice was too steep for her to climb, and yet she knelt, begging them to move forward. The torch of her comrade burned brightly in between the fallen leaves, and she
It was barely visible, only the outline of her face was legible but it was clearly a beautiful painting he had gifted her. By torch light she was able to recognise herself in his mural….
The torch lit up the room, it’s light overwhelmed the darkness. It gave me warmth, it gave me a sense of security and safety. It had seemed to keep me confident in finding the exit, amongst the deep depths of these caves. The cave of my own depression.
She walked into the room and instantly I was transfixed.
Legs as long as a winter in Antarctica, a figure that would make an hourglass jealous and short, red hair so bright you could use it as a torch. As a matter of fact, of all of the people I met on that trip, no one could brighten my day more.
i used a torch at camp one time, i couldn’t see so what else was i supposed to do? i remember cooking in the dark with my family and it was so dark i couldn’t even see where i was cutting. AND I COULD HAVE CUT MY FINER
camping was fun, and the torch definitely came in handy :)
Who doesn’t want to be the torch at least once in life? To feel the heat until it burns from living to dying in beauty.
her eyes burned into my soul like the torch that lights the way for the lost
i am alone in the dark. i cant find a way out. help me. i need someone to find a torch and help me see through all of this. my eyes are blind and my heart is weakening and i can fix this i scream, i can fix this i swear. it is faltered and it is failing but just find the light for me and i will fix it.
He set fire to the whole city. He had not known what he had done. It was the fault of the people for creating a beast, for pushing him over the edge. They wanted to see what would happen. Well, they got their results.
I will be a torch for you in Gilead. I will set thee ablaze. I will light thee on fire. See what the Lord has for you.
Scarlet tongues licked the air around it, giving off warmth and heat. This is history in a cone.
Gabe set the flickering torch into the slot on the wall, the flame lights up the cold room in a faint orange light. The book he’s been looking for is sitting open on the desk in the room and the glimmering knife is askew on the table. Gabe licks his lips, says a silent prayer and then prepares the ritual.
And as I crossed the end of the line, I realized the reason I’d pushed myself harder than the sentinel in the highlighter yellow shoes was to impress him. But why? What insecurity fit inside 26.2 miles?
i am the torch bearer
leading you through the darkness
leading you into the light
bear with me
hold with me
let me lead
i am the torch bearer
Torch. Scary thing at first glance.
But like any other thing, it depends in the heart of the person who touch it.
Light a dark path. Make camp time fun. Creme brulee.
:D
grab a torch
and lead the way
make a path
and start over
create something new
and take me with you
Torchlight reflected across the dingy stone passageway like sunlight beneath the water, always rippling, always distorting the things that lurked within the shadows, transforming mice to monsters, and monsters to mere imaginings.
The light exploded into the darkness. Blinding almost everyone at the site.
“That’s some pretty lethal mother of… torch, you got there,” Kurt exclaimed.
“I like to come prepared,” Steve replied with a grin.
we torched the night, exposing what we would. The morning would have long forgotten our actions, so we ran. And we didn’t think. I jumped so quickly, and the fire was extinguished.
The light of the torch is the light of a victory, be the one to light it first and you will see the end of we. For the world to see….
Fire glistened across the surface of the mirror, the room illuminated by the torch. Cobwebs receded into the darkness of corners as light permeated the fog. The girl let go of the match and it fell to the floor forgotten as she stepped into the doorway.
His eyes meet mine and I see recognition flicker in his eyes. And then I feel it. That familiar flame, sparking to life in my chest, building into a fire on the torch of my heart.
The flame flickers, dancing along the walls in a frenzied, crazy pattern. Shadows are cast, long and looming.
The red light flashed as the entire building erupted in sound and movement from its occupents. “We need to evacuate!” Jack shouted from the stairs. “The whole place is gonna blow!”
Instead of the light of your torch, I need the fire of it so that it can turn into ashes a memoir just for a night. Torch this thought from my brain. Torch away the memories of your scent. I cannot sleep, I cannot eat, I cannot be since I heard you say the least. It’s been awhile, but I must sleep so please step from my mind come back another time. Torch this thought, please, s’il vous plaît, por favor… just for tonight.
nicole torched the house to the ground; it was not safe and sound. she didn’t have time for reflection, since she is so obsessed with one direction.
Hot, kind of like a flame thrower in my mind. I feel like it’s used a lot in movies, especially in movies where the characters are in tunnels looking for treasure or something.
trying to spark this torch that is my life, needing to adventure, to escape, and grasp life for all that it is. it’s a shame it’s a slow burning torch that’s a struggle to light in the first place.
The light burns her eyes as she fumbles into a bush, the torch spinning around and hitting her instead of the ground that’s in front of her. She stills and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a minute and trying to get her bearings. Jesus it’s dark. Jesus it’s late. Jesus she’s cold.
She’s so very, very cold. But that doesn’t matter, because right now she has to find him. She clicks the torch back on.
I think of caves. I think of cheesy action movies, and claw marks. I think of hope, and I think of nothing but a burning stick, that will be gone just like everything and everyone. But that’s alright, because at least we have them now. At least we get to be reminded of caves, and cheesy movies and hope.
a shining beacon burned on the hilltop. The guardian of the Flame shivered as he looked out from his lampshade-shelter upon the windswept sodden landscape. Rain pelted his iron helm like an army of freezing arrows. But still, he kept watch, comforting himself with the knowledge that he was guarding a symbol of hope and a message for all weary travellers in the night.
In his heart he always kept a torch lit for her in the hopes that one day she would come to love him and see him as more than just a friend. Until then he waited.
Torchbearers was a question on my English test. I’m still not too sure what they do. Why does it matter? What a silly question for an English test. I’ve learned Shakespeare’s work was really insignificant throughout this school year. Some things written are brilliant, but its just old-style writing. He didn’t do anything special. He didn’t. He didn’t do anything. I promise. I think.
The torch lit up the dark, empty hallway as I crept around, looking for something valuable to steal so I can sell it and have enough money to eat this week.
by sitting we’ll cease to carry fire.
steps forward, courage has say and
sword display.
by touring we’ll stand up to the liars.