I’m lighting the torch and leaving this behind. Being a waste of space. Being a follower. It’s over. I’m guiding myself toward something better, though I can’t see ahead.
The flames of the torch flickered along as she was led through the dark damp hallways. On the eve of her death she never expected to feel this way. Calm, serene, righteous. She knew that she would die for a cause and that she was okay with.
The night lit up with the single flame, flickering yet never wavering in the ultimate paradox of time itself. It never ended and it never began, as old as God and as primal as electricity, yet older, so much older, in the infant fire it was.
The darkness crept closer with each breath. The only thing holding it back was the dim light of the torch. The black waited knowing the oil inside couldn’t last much longer. Soon it would feast on the trembling flesh.
She shone the flashlight into the corner of the room, searching for the noise that had woken her. It was a rustle/thump and she felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck in the pregnant silence.
i carried the torch out to the porch and stood there with it in my hand. it burned loudly. everyone else on the block had one too. we stood there and looked at one another, silently standing with our arms above our head, showing our blazing torches to the world. check it out, check it out! we’re all here lighting this street up together. this is our neighborhood. this is our scene.
The torch was hot. It brightened up the night darkness while friends and others enjoyed the summer wiNd and surf. The torch would go out and end the joy but sadness did not encore. Only the happiness of the night and day.
He lit the torch and filled the tunnel with a radiating light, dimming at the edges. Now he could see, what before was invisible in the dark. The beauty of the tunnel really accentuated the power of the torch. The End.
lit up the night, a long yellow path ending abruptly in blackness. Makes the night seem to close in like smothering velvet, writhing with unknown creatures. A single pathway through nothing, leading who knows where……
Störche wurden schon lange nicht mehr gesehen. Früher landeten sie fast jedes Jahr auf dem Dach der alten Scheune, wo irgendwann vor langer Zeit jemand ein riesiges Wagenrad angebracht hatte, das sie als Basis für ihr Nest verwendeten. Die Scheune stand direkt an einer Kurve, an der es immer wieder Unfälle gab, weil sie so schlecht einsehbar war.
“Well, then, I suppose I’ll have to.” She pushed the door open and lit her torch, illuminating a small circle of light. “Jonah? Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. The attic’s dangerous–and creepy, to boot.” A creak echoed from the far recesses of the dusty place.
“But look, Rosalind! It’s the chest–the one that he gave us!” She shone the light upon the small receptacle, peering into its dark contents…
Torches were a favoured ‘weapon’, particularly behind enemy lines. Even merchants could wield a flaming torch to great effect, and the wooden homes burned like the driest of kindle-wood. It wasn’t just one side or the other, either. The indiscriminate torching that went on during these civil wars of theirs might well have burned fully half of their homes. The thought of discussing codes of conduct during war didn’t occur to them. Who knows, maybe they prefer it this way. Rebuilding is their specialty, after all.
A torch lit the way through the dark tunnel. Sometimes this wasn’t even enough. It was just one torch, and yet it fought so bravely to push away the darkness it lived in. Death was always a better situation. Now everything was gone.
the torch pierced through the dust and lit up a large metallic trunk. The trunk was an oddity in the empty room, it sat there redundant and neglected. Then she heard a creaking sound behind her… the light in her torch flickered, like a candle in the wind… the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt his cold breath envelope her… ‘we meet again’ he muttered…
the torch was burning brightly, its eary glow drawing me forward. It was mesmerising. As i grew closer it stated to alter, shift in the air, i suddenly felt very cold. This was no ordinary light.
lighting a path… I don’t know where it will lead, but that is half of the fun in the journey… sparkling ever onward is my torch…I aim to become a torch to others at my journey’s end… My life like the torch is only a temporary joy.. but lives on in what it provides to those who’ll come after me.
lighting my path… I do not know where it leads, but that is half of the fun in the journey… when my journeying is done I hope that my sparkle will be mirror this torch and I will light the paths of those to come
The torch is a brilliant thing. It can light up even the darkest of rooms. But it can also cause distruction. The beaming light can also cause burning disasters. So for every good. there is bad. no matter what.
i think of a fire and maybe torches that keep bugs away and camps and campfires and spending time with family in georgia. these torches remind me of the ducks we raised when I was young and how they were lit in the backyard when one of the ducks was eaten by a snake and my dad killed the snake. tragic night for young katrina.
Torch bearer. Bringer of light. Don’t get burned by seeing only what is illuminated by your light. Don’t be blinded by your own perspective. let the light shine far and wide to new perspectives.
I light up. I inhale. Exhale. Bliss. This is my life as a civilian. Nothing more. They it’s contrived. I say it’s the purest form of happiness. Indeed it is.
Once I met a man who torched my uncle’s farm. He lived in a straw house on the farm so as soon as the house was lit, the whole place went up in flames. The man who torched the farm’s name was Robin Goodfellow. Robin is a trickster who loves to do mischevious things.
i lit the torch right as i heard it. all of my life i had thought this might happen and suddenly without expecting it, it did. i turn around to find a masked stranger waiting. wanting… and he said that i was time…. he didn’t look at me. it was just time to go.
i am a dark soul, you always knew. you knew because you’re one as well. the thing is, like minus and minus make a plus, dark and dark sometimes make light. and that’s how we became the torch of somebody else’s life.
The torch held the blazing flame. It created light, heat and cooking abilities. Most of all, it was a communal meeting place for the people. People laughed around it, ate around it, and lived around it. At the end of the night, the flame burned out.
I’ve been wanting to write about this guy, but there really haven’t been any words that have sparked anything creative that has to do with him. So I’ll just say the thought of him reminds me of a warm feeling, a torch-like glow. Oh, man – I can’t believe I just wrote that.
a fire within
what happens when unconscious is translated into thought
violent
between ignition and ashes
By Rem on 05.25.2011
I’m lighting the torch and leaving this behind. Being a waste of space. Being a follower. It’s over. I’m guiding myself toward something better, though I can’t see ahead.
By Madeline URL on 05.25.2011
The flames of the torch flickered along as she was led through the dark damp hallways. On the eve of her death she never expected to feel this way. Calm, serene, righteous. She knew that she would die for a cause and that she was okay with.
By Sal on 05.25.2011
fire medieval age hurt worm shrek
By maria belo on 05.25.2011
The night lit up with the single flame, flickering yet never wavering in the ultimate paradox of time itself. It never ended and it never began, as old as God and as primal as electricity, yet older, so much older, in the infant fire it was.
By Koby on 05.25.2011
The darkness crept closer with each breath. The only thing holding it back was the dim light of the torch. The black waited knowing the oil inside couldn’t last much longer. Soon it would feast on the trembling flesh.
By EliseV URL on 05.25.2011
She shone the flashlight into the corner of the room, searching for the noise that had woken her. It was a rustle/thump and she felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck in the pregnant silence.
By kelsi on 05.25.2011
i carried the torch out to the porch and stood there with it in my hand. it burned loudly. everyone else on the block had one too. we stood there and looked at one another, silently standing with our arms above our head, showing our blazing torches to the world. check it out, check it out! we’re all here lighting this street up together. this is our neighborhood. this is our scene.
By choirqueer URL on 05.25.2011
The torch was hot. It brightened up the night darkness while friends and others enjoyed the summer wiNd and surf. The torch would go out and end the joy but sadness did not encore. Only the happiness of the night and day.
By TJ on 05.25.2011
A fire in my heart
“Light my way,”
I will ask.
And you light my way.
The darkest hour,
and you call out
Flame in hand
Ready to light me on fire
Ready to burn my heart
and from the ashes
Arise a new me
With your torch as my heart
Your fire as my passion.
By Gabriel Alexander URL on 05.25.2011
many of us thinks that we will do in our life some extraordianay things whic h will give us popularity abdul
By abdul ghaffar URL on 05.25.2011
He lit the torch and filled the tunnel with a radiating light, dimming at the edges. Now he could see, what before was invisible in the dark. The beauty of the tunnel really accentuated the power of the torch. The End.
By Paul on 05.25.2011
lit up the night, a long yellow path ending abruptly in blackness. Makes the night seem to close in like smothering velvet, writhing with unknown creatures. A single pathway through nothing, leading who knows where……
By Georgie on 05.25.2011
Störche wurden schon lange nicht mehr gesehen. Früher landeten sie fast jedes Jahr auf dem Dach der alten Scheune, wo irgendwann vor langer Zeit jemand ein riesiges Wagenrad angebracht hatte, das sie als Basis für ihr Nest verwendeten. Die Scheune stand direkt an einer Kurve, an der es immer wieder Unfälle gab, weil sie so schlecht einsehbar war.
By Lisa URL on 05.25.2011
“Well, then, I suppose I’ll have to.” She pushed the door open and lit her torch, illuminating a small circle of light. “Jonah? Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. The attic’s dangerous–and creepy, to boot.” A creak echoed from the far recesses of the dusty place.
“But look, Rosalind! It’s the chest–the one that he gave us!” She shone the light upon the small receptacle, peering into its dark contents…
By Kiba on 05.25.2011
Torches were a favoured ‘weapon’, particularly behind enemy lines. Even merchants could wield a flaming torch to great effect, and the wooden homes burned like the driest of kindle-wood. It wasn’t just one side or the other, either. The indiscriminate torching that went on during these civil wars of theirs might well have burned fully half of their homes. The thought of discussing codes of conduct during war didn’t occur to them. Who knows, maybe they prefer it this way. Rebuilding is their specialty, after all.
By Ralyn Longs URL on 05.25.2011
A torch lit the way through the dark tunnel. Sometimes this wasn’t even enough. It was just one torch, and yet it fought so bravely to push away the darkness it lived in. Death was always a better situation. Now everything was gone.
By paulref URL on 05.25.2011
the torch pierced through the dust and lit up a large metallic trunk. The trunk was an oddity in the empty room, it sat there redundant and neglected. Then she heard a creaking sound behind her… the light in her torch flickered, like a candle in the wind… the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt his cold breath envelope her… ‘we meet again’ he muttered…
By nabster121 URL on 05.25.2011
the torch was burning brightly, its eary glow drawing me forward. It was mesmerising. As i grew closer it stated to alter, shift in the air, i suddenly felt very cold. This was no ordinary light.
By Philip on 05.25.2011
lighting a path… I don’t know where it will lead, but that is half of the fun in the journey… sparkling ever onward is my torch…I aim to become a torch to others at my journey’s end… My life like the torch is only a temporary joy.. but lives on in what it provides to those who’ll come after me.
By Monique on 05.25.2011
hot
hot heat.
I’d like to touch you
but i might burn you.
i love you, but be careful
of my torch.
By Mirandapanda on 05.25.2011
I shall keep my torch lit through the wind, the rain, depression, joy. I will extinguish it only when desire has left me forever.
By Annie Schempp URL on 05.25.2011
I carry a torch, she carries a torch, too. Love,Liberty, Betty. The Human Torch probably knows best.
By YourFriendDave URL on 05.25.2011
lighting my path… I do not know where it leads, but that is half of the fun in the journey… when my journeying is done I hope that my sparkle will be mirror this torch and I will light the paths of those to come
By Monique URL on 05.25.2011
The torch is a brilliant thing. It can light up even the darkest of rooms. But it can also cause distruction. The beaming light can also cause burning disasters. So for every good. there is bad. no matter what.
By Abby URL on 05.25.2011
the torch was lit, and the booth started descending. and overwhelming desire for bogdan overwhelmed her.
By The Fake Dann URL on 05.25.2011
its the light who ilumintae my life for ever and ever till the end of the earth and i love it so so so so much ts is incredible i never wanted to stop
By Ana on 05.25.2011
i think of a fire and maybe torches that keep bugs away and camps and campfires and spending time with family in georgia. these torches remind me of the ducks we raised when I was young and how they were lit in the backyard when one of the ducks was eaten by a snake and my dad killed the snake. tragic night for young katrina.
By katrina on 05.25.2011
An old rag, wrapped round a knotted branch, soaked in paraffin; leads our way through the cavernous mazes.
By Dale URL on 05.25.2011
Torch bearer. Bringer of light. Don’t get burned by seeing only what is illuminated by your light. Don’t be blinded by your own perspective. let the light shine far and wide to new perspectives.
By Becky on 05.25.2011
warm everlasting flame in the cold desertnight.
humble to the awsome power of fire, keeps me warm, saves me from the animals of my haunted dreams.
protection and… comfort.
By Tor Westerberg on 05.25.2011
I light up. I inhale. Exhale. Bliss. This is my life as a civilian. Nothing more. They it’s contrived. I say it’s the purest form of happiness. Indeed it is.
By Taylor Martin URL on 05.25.2011
Once I met a man who torched my uncle’s farm. He lived in a straw house on the farm so as soon as the house was lit, the whole place went up in flames. The man who torched the farm’s name was Robin Goodfellow. Robin is a trickster who loves to do mischevious things.
By Madison on 05.25.2011
i lit the torch right as i heard it. all of my life i had thought this might happen and suddenly without expecting it, it did. i turn around to find a masked stranger waiting. wanting… and he said that i was time…. he didn’t look at me. it was just time to go.
By Skylar on 05.25.2011
Fire, dark, cave, middle ages, armory, castles. dungeons, guards, swords, blood, vampires, teeth,
By Fernando Sanchez on 05.25.2011
the torch is passed in the olympic intro to all the events
parents pass the torch onto their children
some torches are used for outdoor entertainments
torches can be an eternal flame that never goes out
By she53lly URL on 05.25.2011
light my fire with that torch you carry around – the one you carry for me.
By cynthia price URL on 05.25.2011
i am a dark soul, you always knew. you knew because you’re one as well. the thing is, like minus and minus make a plus, dark and dark sometimes make light. and that’s how we became the torch of somebody else’s life.
By Jo URL on 05.25.2011
The torch held the blazing flame. It created light, heat and cooking abilities. Most of all, it was a communal meeting place for the people. People laughed around it, ate around it, and lived around it. At the end of the night, the flame burned out.
By Nesh URL on 05.25.2011
I’ve been wanting to write about this guy, but there really haven’t been any words that have sparked anything creative that has to do with him. So I’ll just say the thought of him reminds me of a warm feeling, a torch-like glow. Oh, man – I can’t believe I just wrote that.
By Vanatron URL on 05.25.2011