myOtaku.com: DeathT-2

myO Still <3's You

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Birthday
• 1689-05-18
Gender
• Female
Location
• Scalia! Feck off!
Member Since
• 2004-09-01
Occupation
• Assistant riding instructor/freelance artist/kicker of ARSE
Real Name
• It's misread. I am Yoake Tsuyu, Death T-2, DT2, SKfantheXTREME, Frosty the Hitman, that weird Seto Kaiba fangirl, Yu-Gi-Jo, or if you want to suck up to me I'm Scythe of the Underworld

Personal

Achievements
• They're negative, I can assure you
Anime Fan Since
• Transformers came out forever ago, so from about the age of 5
Favorite Anime
• Yu-Gi-Oh!, Shaman King, YGO, Dragon Knights, YGO, Excel Saga, YGO,
Goals
• Japan! Japanese stuff!
Hobbies
• Drawing, reading, daydreaming, imagining, horses, karate, volleyball, freaking people out
Talents
• FECK!

myOtaku.com: DeathT-2

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Spirits of the Dead

Today is Mickey day... yesssssssss
Hopefully after work I can get my dad to take me to see Charlie and the Chocolate Foctory. I wanna see it so badly!!!

The other night I had a dream that I was teaching one of my baby cousns how to use a yo-yo. Last night was very odd, but I can't remember which dream I had...

I see those who read liked the poem from yesterday. ^_^ I really like that one even though it isn't nearly as well known. For those who still didn't understand it: "Eddie" is talking about how he's very happy and content to be dead even though his lady-friend is sad.

And that's pretty much it.

So here's another Edgar Allen Poe poem, though it's not nearly as long as the last two.

Spirits of the Dead by Edgay Allan Poe (1827)

Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness- for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.

The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne'er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.

The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!

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