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I waited for a message to define my path. You lead me to the water to drown.
By Jasmine on 03.16.2014
A giving of what you have. Making me think of society. What if we have nothing? Will we receive nothing? How daft, I mean really? This is what makes up society. But I don’t need to complain, my thoughts are nothing but posibilities.
By Blunt on 03.16.2014
As to giving what you have. Or a commitment? What if all you have is experience? I bet that’s half of society. Half of what people can give, but they can’t do so due to the lack of consideration society has.
there was a man one day and e had a vision about a man coming to life.. some kind of god some kind of beauty. he brought life to the world, light. because the world was filled with darkness. somehow a miracle was forming, ,aybe the worl wasnt such a nad place after all you know… thought robin. all he wanted to do was explore the world, and see the potential of it but he coyldn’t because everything was an illusion. everything felt as if it had been destroyed by everything ugle. and it was true, it was gen
By phoebe URL on 03.16.2014
“I see light,” said the man, eyes glassy and glazed, “I see clouds thinner than cheesecloth, of which we shall soon frolic through in our ivory gossamer robes whilst strumming miniscule harps and sporting golden rings that shall hover over our heads and symbolize our goodness. I see that all of our pain and hardships will be for naught; I see purity and virtue and light.”
“I see sun,” said I, eyes wide and round, “I see swirls of unpredictable cumulus drifting over our heads, barely visible through the gaps of the trees that spill leaves of gold and green, which fall to the soil that stains the flesh of our bare heels. I see rain racing along bare flesh and rocks cutting into sensitive skin. All of our pain and hardships are yet to end; I see a world of people refusing to entertain the thought that Earth may, in fact, actually be Heaven.”
By Luna-Ellen on 03.16.2014
There he sat, on top of the bag racks at school. Reclined in comfort, though with the likeness of an eagle his visioned was poised. He did not see rag-tag rebellious highschoolers. He saw the makings of a relentless rebellion group. He saw the overcoming of opressive rulers by a passionate living of freedom. He saw artists painting colours and bringing life to this colourless, pale, lifeless world. If only he would speak life into this darkness, if only this prophet of great hope could let it all flow.
By Jose on 03.16.2014
One speaking on behalf of a God. Not very good on prophets. Lost prophets…..!
By Alexandra on 03.17.2014
Prohet is the hero of Darren Aronofsky «Noah» film. Muslim people don’t depict prophets. Вut christians do
By Karina on 03.17.2014
Sitting on stoops all night, living the dream. Marco was wondering just who he was. Other people seemed to know, but for some reason in the 23 years of his life he still was unable to figure it out. He knew he was good for something. His family was strong. He knew he was destined for something, but what?
By Devon Michele on 03.17.2014
This word i described before :(
It’s a person who is chosen.
It follows another one.
By Cristina Molina on 03.17.2014
The follower of God. A chosen one, special one.
we could see that he could see. we hung close. we followed his actions closely. at that time he made no special demands on us. it was only beginning to come to his attention that his dreams and instincts
By Lee on 03.17.2014
With a tall hat and a surreal demeanour, the prophet came to me with eyes ablaze – with a thousand prophecies waiting to be told. It was almost as if he wanted me to guess what was in his mind – that having to spell it out was too dreadful. Oh dear, I didn’t want to hear it then, I thought. This would change the course of my life. The course of all our lives. I mustered up the dregs of courage I had left from the last time that I saw such eyes. Let’s hear it then, I told myself. He heard my mind.
By advaita raut URL on 03.17.2014
Maya was born to an old man. He died not too long before she was 6, but she got three things from him. First, she got her hair, dark, thick, and lustrous. Second, she got a dog. Not a dog with any purpose, just a small, prissy white dog that took a lot of work. And lastly, she got a debilitating curse. Prophecy.
By Johnnie on 03.17.2014
He looked her straight in the eye and promised redemption.
“But, I’ve done so many bad things,” she whispered. “There’s no way…”
He smiled. “It doesn’t matter, just confess and repent.”
Someone in the crowd snorted. “I call bullshit.”
By Soft URL on 03.17.2014
The one who leads us to the true Lord. No matter what religion you may be of, there is always a prophet who is sacred and faithful to your beliefs. Just remember there is a difference between a prophet and God.
By Alex Cornell URL on 03.17.2014
-Why don´t you tell me you can see all this things?-
+You never asked me.+
-How long is it going on now?-
By Andrea Jansen on 03.17.2014
I have a copy of Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet somewhere at my mum’s in Cardiff. The parts I like are marked with small bits of yellow paper.
By JMac on 03.17.2014
YOU ARE THE PROPHET.
By Kalen Goodluck URL on 03.17.2014
The shadows were coming farther and faster than ever imagined. The so called prophet was a lunatic, a mad man. Someone who was unable to differ reality from fiction. Sure it could have been easy to kill him. But it would be even better to win him over to our side. The fallen city would have been easy to save, but why not rebuild it with the man that destroyed it.
By Eric Bone on 03.17.2014
i think everyone is a prohet an everybody needs one
and no one is a big prohet an better than the others like some people think it was
nobody loves it but very much
By juliakarw URL on 03.17.2014
The prophet came to me and told me to follow my heart. Do not fear rejection or humiliation. Just go to him. I left the dimly lit cafe and went to the university where he worked. I marched into his office and told him we are going to be together forever.
By Shannonkeya on 03.17.2014
Scientists are all prophets now. they have to, because there ha to be someone not to listen to. They use not the lines of the palm but the lines of the graph (temperatures shooting up, up, up, dark clouds of carbon dioxide vapors) and they divine messages from corals and the very mud we trod. Its seems much like witchcraft, doesn’t it? But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.
By Yona on 03.17.2014
The Prophet Moses stood, with his arms raised over the Red Sea, commanding the waves to do his bidding. As I watched my faith in God grew, this was a man who had devoted his very existence to serving the Lord. And look at what he had acomplished through his obedience. As the water continued to swell and rise, My heart sung with the hope of a new life, a new life in a land flowing with milk and honey. And as I daydreamed a small hand slipped into mine. The hand of my son, Moses after the great Prophet. He looked at me through wide innocent eyes and asked ” Mama when we walk across the sea will we be able to see the fish?” I laughed a great and full laugh that had not been mine since the Egyptians had stolen my joy. I smiled at his simple and childlike question and tousled his curls. “Yes my son we will see the fish.” A wide smile spread across his face as he ran to tell the other children what he had discovered. Tears filled my eyes as I realized that my son would never have to experience what I had, He could enjoy his childhood, loving every minute. And I thought for the first time, This it what it means to be free. I was free.
By Jemma on 03.17.2014
i’ll write for you
because i can’t seem to write for myself
one minute no stopping
the chosen one
that scar on your forehead
gleams in the night
i might be sick
i can’t trick myself into inspiration
or can i?
need a little motivation
writing exercise i just can’t
bring myself into existence
i’d rather escape in my head
be dead to the world and stay in bed
with last words and saliva dripping onto
my pillow it’s cold on the otherside
my goose bumps are hollow
i swallow my thoughts with a drop of hope
i don’t think i’ll ever make it — fateless fateless
hatred demands attention i won’t provide
i won’t waste my time with things that don’t help me right now
this moment is the only moment that i have
and i’m wasting it drooling on linens and wiping sleep
from my eyes i use pain as motivation and i breathe in
heartache like smog
i can’t get away from this
if you can’t beat em join em right?
does anyone know what i’m talking about?
sleepless in olympia
this self i preserve i need to be less aware
forget about myself for a while and let the
world take it’s course
we are all so insignificant
and honestly i find that beautiful
By stargirl on 03.17.2014
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.