The man grabbed his torch and ran with the others. Truthfully, he was not exactly sure what they were mobbing against, but he assumed it had something to do with the high amount of fires in the area recently. Ironic that they would picket with torches; it was already medieval. Others began throwing their torches, but the man held on to his and fled with his children to safety, the torch the lone tool guiding them through the stifling darkness of the night.
The flame twitched on top of the torch while its Citronella scent wavered through the air with help from the gentle ocean breeze. My heart is reminded of prior trips to this beach, but none were like this one. None were for this.
torch, the flame it grows and intensifies as hungry eyes look on. colors deepen, eyes widen, awakening a secret deep inside, hidden away that none can see but one. Those who can, they say, see what lies beneath the stores of modernity
a fire in an ally, a man behind the torch with a disgruntle look on his face. he’s marching forward like a madman, out to get the man that murdered his beloved. it’s dark out and the ally is desolate..
Greek/Roman Goddess who is suppose to be the God of the Hearth.
A light in the dark.
A Roman wedding tradition to throw a unlit torch into a crowd. think bouquet.
She had carried it for a long time. It seemed like the hours had stretched into years, or perhaps the other way round. The cheerful flame kept her going, always there when she was down, but now it was to belong to someone else. She didn’t know if she could stand it.
my flame get hotter the cooler the color
blue means scoldin
orange means solder
i burn tree for rec i like my lighter blue so i no im only burning the best
lets set this space on fire light it like a torch, light it like the sun lights the sky. I want to feel its warmth the melting it provides so close and such a rush. Torch
The torch glowed brightly, scaring Sean out of his wits. He felt like he was own some stupid soap opera now, creepy through Julia’s stuff. He didn’t want to turn back though. He had broken in already; why not look for the truth?
the night was dark, dark but for the light of a single flame. the girl holding the flame looked up at it, watched it flicker in her eyes with approval. she knew its power, knew its ferocity in normal conditions, but she knew she could control it. with relish she raised her hand shoulder-height, and watched the flames lick higher and higher.
Frankenstein led the angry mob of villagers, holding a torch in his grafted hand. The dogs barked and strained at their leads as they pursued the new immigrant family through the forest. Lurching and crashing through the brush, his reanimated ears could hear the children crying as their parents dragged them along. His transplanted heart swelled with pride. He was so happy to finally belong.
The torch can be passed on to other generations. It represents a beam of light that can be held by anyone and that wielder can make a difference. They can shine light on feelings and thoughts obscured by darkness. The world is damp and black but the torch can make a small glimmer of hope in all the obscurity.
The olympic torch is symbolic in many ways. Not only does the torch signify the beginning of the Olympic games, but it also symbolizes the value of the unity among the competitors. The torch has and always will reign supreme in the value of the unity of athletes.
The torchlight was in danger of going out. The wind howled and shrieked around the bones of the trees and still Amanda gripped the dying flare. She had ten seconds before the transport landed, and she still had thirty yards of thick forest to hack through.
The thing went up like a torch, falling to ashes in a matter of seconds. I dropped to my knees, wiping sweat from my forehead and blood from my hands. I glanced up, saw him staring at me, his eyes unusually soft. He gave a quick nod and turned away.
The torch burned a bright color and I couldn’t help but admire the flame that sat upon it’s head. It glowed with a brilliant light and created a dance throughout the dark and moist cave. Laughter erupted from the mouths of the children as they spun around the brightly lit torch.
Torchwood. Torchsong trilogy. Torches that chase the monster into the windmill, wielded by unforgiving and non-understanding villagers who do not understand that the monster is created that way, cannot help being that way, and must suffer fiery doom at the hands of those who do not care to learn enough to understand. He is, in a sense, all of us.
I followed the path by torch light. Brilliant and bright it lead my way down the twisted dirt path. Pitch black was surrounding me, only the light from the torch reassured me with calmness.
When I spark my torch in a shop full of people the only thing I can think of is how this is my life. How I have created this life for myself and its the start of somehting great. Something worth while and worth everything I have poured into it. My life as is, is amazing. I believe… as simple as that. I believe.
if i was the man i used to be, i’d take a flame-thrower to this place!
a torch is used a weapon of violence, destruction, of building up, lighting a path. so many things that could be used for good is used for evil, instead. even “love.” sometimes people use love to manipulate others. i’ve been there before, both ends.
Your love is like a torch that shines light onto my heart. The light exposes desires and feelings that were otherwise left untouched, unfurled and unfound. Without your love, my world is darkness.
Them all! Seriously. Every last one of them. Take no mercy. They say. Just do it. They say. Double your refreshment. Double your fun. Everyone is doing it. So torch them. Peer pressure. Under pressure. Under water. Milk and butter. Go to the store and fetch me some more.
Fiery goodness. Usually warm/hot. Not for touching. You use it to light up dark areas and possibly to fight off monsters trying to eat/kill you. There’s many different types of torches. The type that I’m writing about is the non-electric kind.
I lost the light. Nothing can ever be that bright. I loved you & lost you in that bitter fire. On the fateful night. I’ll never forget you but i don’t have you.
torch burning lighting the dungeon at the castles basement where the mutants are stored, chained to twin beds like thrashing maniacal geminis in heat. wondering when their next meal arrives, no time for thought, except madness, of course.
Fire. Arousing from a single corner: the back of my mind, a lit with conjuring images of fast-paced thrills and common sense, derivity. No more can a man light his path than a cave can produce a spark on it’s own.
It’s dark and lonely. I don’t like it, I’m scared. Everyone’s gone and no one is looking for me. I wish someone could find me. I hate the dark because it’s scary and you don’t know what’s there. All I know is that this is a lonely tunnel without a light. I wish there was some kind of light, even if it’s a small one. Maybe it won’t be as terrifying as the dark. Huddled in the corner, I feel the heat, I look up and there he was. I love him. He holds a small light up torch smiling down on me. He was looking for me and he granted my wish, a light. Even if it’s a small light, the light up torch was a bright light and it was warm, unlike the wet murky dark tunnel. The torch was just like him.
tiki torch. hill down to the barn and thinking aw this is so cute! they have torches outside the house leading the way. storm and the really awesome skyline of trees peering from the barn. i wish he would call me back
When making jewelry, you use a torch. You can also use a torch to weld, or make a girlled cheese, like that episode of Home Improvement back in the day. i’ve never used a torch, but I woulld definitely try it. wonder what I could make if I had a torch and some steel. Hmm, it could be fun. Do you ever wonder who invented the torch? I don’t, but it’d be cool to know.
The man held a torch as he walked threough the dimly lit cave. He hadf no clue where he was hweaded or why he was gioing terem, he just knew he was. Finally he reached a giant spider that ate him and killed him. The-freaking-end. Are you disapointed?
The light blazed before her. Flickering crimsons, oranges, burnt siennas, golden tones, moving constantly in a myriad of random and yet beautiful ways. The torch slowly slipped from her fingers as her breath rushed away from as the flames reached the sky. Dizzy with exultance, she stood, as sirens whispered in the distance.
For years I carried a torch for an old flame. We parted as friends and I married someone else. It seemed like the best thing to do, but the fire never went out. 13 years later I found myself getting divorced and the torch was still burning—brighter than I had ever imagined. I flung myself into its flame and arose like a phoenix into a new life. 18 years later still, the torch still burns, though storms have caused it to waver at times.
The man grabbed his torch and ran with the others. Truthfully, he was not exactly sure what they were mobbing against, but he assumed it had something to do with the high amount of fires in the area recently. Ironic that they would picket with torches; it was already medieval. Others began throwing their torches, but the man held on to his and fled with his children to safety, the torch the lone tool guiding them through the stifling darkness of the night.
The flame twitched on top of the torch while its Citronella scent wavered through the air with help from the gentle ocean breeze. My heart is reminded of prior trips to this beach, but none were like this one. None were for this.
torch, the flame it grows and intensifies as hungry eyes look on. colors deepen, eyes widen, awakening a secret deep inside, hidden away that none can see but one. Those who can, they say, see what lies beneath the stores of modernity
Torch the memories
Burn the pain
Ignite the torture
Leave it all alone,
it never happened,
Torch the last living
Pieces.
a fire in an ally, a man behind the torch with a disgruntle look on his face. he’s marching forward like a madman, out to get the man that murdered his beloved. it’s dark out and the ally is desolate..
Greek/Roman Goddess who is suppose to be the God of the Hearth.
A light in the dark.
A Roman wedding tradition to throw a unlit torch into a crowd. think bouquet.
She had carried it for a long time. It seemed like the hours had stretched into years, or perhaps the other way round. The cheerful flame kept her going, always there when she was down, but now it was to belong to someone else. She didn’t know if she could stand it.
my flame get hotter the cooler the color
blue means scoldin
orange means solder
i burn tree for rec i like my lighter blue so i no im only burning the best
fire cave light in the tunnel walking through old scary exciting serene warm vampires movies and books intense scenes fire blazing small
lets set this space on fire light it like a torch, light it like the sun lights the sky. I want to feel its warmth the melting it provides so close and such a rush. Torch
The torch glowed brightly, scaring Sean out of his wits. He felt like he was own some stupid soap opera now, creepy through Julia’s stuff. He didn’t want to turn back though. He had broken in already; why not look for the truth?
“Tomorrow, take the torch to the town.” Tonight, thieves think these thoughts.
the night was dark, dark but for the light of a single flame. the girl holding the flame looked up at it, watched it flicker in her eyes with approval. she knew its power, knew its ferocity in normal conditions, but she knew she could control it. with relish she raised her hand shoulder-height, and watched the flames lick higher and higher.
it was once dark. Once. Then when the glow came it was gone. The dark was never around again.
Go and set the world aflame,” says St. Ignatius.I am a Christian. I am a Boston College Eagle, and I will set the world aflame.
Frankenstein led the angry mob of villagers, holding a torch in his grafted hand. The dogs barked and strained at their leads as they pursued the new immigrant family through the forest. Lurching and crashing through the brush, his reanimated ears could hear the children crying as their parents dragged them along. His transplanted heart swelled with pride. He was so happy to finally belong.
The torch can be passed on to other generations. It represents a beam of light that can be held by anyone and that wielder can make a difference. They can shine light on feelings and thoughts obscured by darkness. The world is damp and black but the torch can make a small glimmer of hope in all the obscurity.
Torch.
Light.
Fire.
Bright.
Advert your eyes.
Take a peek,
See a flame.
Watch it dance,
Again and again.
The olympic torch is symbolic in many ways. Not only does the torch signify the beginning of the Olympic games, but it also symbolizes the value of the unity among the competitors. The torch has and always will reign supreme in the value of the unity of athletes.
The torchlight was in danger of going out. The wind howled and shrieked around the bones of the trees and still Amanda gripped the dying flare. She had ten seconds before the transport landed, and she still had thirty yards of thick forest to hack through.
The thing went up like a torch, falling to ashes in a matter of seconds. I dropped to my knees, wiping sweat from my forehead and blood from my hands. I glanced up, saw him staring at me, his eyes unusually soft. He gave a quick nod and turned away.
The torch burned a bright color and I couldn’t help but admire the flame that sat upon it’s head. It glowed with a brilliant light and created a dance throughout the dark and moist cave. Laughter erupted from the mouths of the children as they spun around the brightly lit torch.
The trees are on fire, time lapse in reverse and watch them grow out of the ashes.
Torchwood. Torchsong trilogy. Torches that chase the monster into the windmill, wielded by unforgiving and non-understanding villagers who do not understand that the monster is created that way, cannot help being that way, and must suffer fiery doom at the hands of those who do not care to learn enough to understand. He is, in a sense, all of us.
I followed the path by torch light. Brilliant and bright it lead my way down the twisted dirt path. Pitch black was surrounding me, only the light from the torch reassured me with calmness.
When I spark my torch in a shop full of people the only thing I can think of is how this is my life. How I have created this life for myself and its the start of somehting great. Something worth while and worth everything I have poured into it. My life as is, is amazing. I believe… as simple as that. I believe.
if i was the man i used to be, i’d take a flame-thrower to this place!
a torch is used a weapon of violence, destruction, of building up, lighting a path. so many things that could be used for good is used for evil, instead. even “love.” sometimes people use love to manipulate others. i’ve been there before, both ends.
Your love is like a torch that shines light onto my heart. The light exposes desires and feelings that were otherwise left untouched, unfurled and unfound. Without your love, my world is darkness.
the torch is a fire that burns with the intensity of a sun. Nothing can hide the torch, it is awesome. I wish i was the torch i could never disappear.
Them all! Seriously. Every last one of them. Take no mercy. They say. Just do it. They say. Double your refreshment. Double your fun. Everyone is doing it. So torch them. Peer pressure. Under pressure. Under water. Milk and butter. Go to the store and fetch me some more.
Fiery goodness. Usually warm/hot. Not for touching. You use it to light up dark areas and possibly to fight off monsters trying to eat/kill you. There’s many different types of torches. The type that I’m writing about is the non-electric kind.
I lost the light. Nothing can ever be that bright. I loved you & lost you in that bitter fire. On the fateful night. I’ll never forget you but i don’t have you.
torch burning lighting the dungeon at the castles basement where the mutants are stored, chained to twin beds like thrashing maniacal geminis in heat. wondering when their next meal arrives, no time for thought, except madness, of course.
Fire. Arousing from a single corner: the back of my mind, a lit with conjuring images of fast-paced thrills and common sense, derivity. No more can a man light his path than a cave can produce a spark on it’s own.
It’s dark and lonely. I don’t like it, I’m scared. Everyone’s gone and no one is looking for me. I wish someone could find me. I hate the dark because it’s scary and you don’t know what’s there. All I know is that this is a lonely tunnel without a light. I wish there was some kind of light, even if it’s a small one. Maybe it won’t be as terrifying as the dark. Huddled in the corner, I feel the heat, I look up and there he was. I love him. He holds a small light up torch smiling down on me. He was looking for me and he granted my wish, a light. Even if it’s a small light, the light up torch was a bright light and it was warm, unlike the wet murky dark tunnel. The torch was just like him.
tiki torch. hill down to the barn and thinking aw this is so cute! they have torches outside the house leading the way. storm and the really awesome skyline of trees peering from the barn. i wish he would call me back
When making jewelry, you use a torch. You can also use a torch to weld, or make a girlled cheese, like that episode of Home Improvement back in the day. i’ve never used a torch, but I woulld definitely try it. wonder what I could make if I had a torch and some steel. Hmm, it could be fun. Do you ever wonder who invented the torch? I don’t, but it’d be cool to know.
The man held a torch as he walked threough the dimly lit cave. He hadf no clue where he was hweaded or why he was gioing terem, he just knew he was. Finally he reached a giant spider that ate him and killed him. The-freaking-end. Are you disapointed?
The light blazed before her. Flickering crimsons, oranges, burnt siennas, golden tones, moving constantly in a myriad of random and yet beautiful ways. The torch slowly slipped from her fingers as her breath rushed away from as the flames reached the sky. Dizzy with exultance, she stood, as sirens whispered in the distance.
For years I carried a torch for an old flame. We parted as friends and I married someone else. It seemed like the best thing to do, but the fire never went out. 13 years later I found myself getting divorced and the torch was still burning—brighter than I had ever imagined. I flung myself into its flame and arose like a phoenix into a new life. 18 years later still, the torch still burns, though storms have caused it to waver at times.