i want to torch those pedestrians that screwed me over. just give them a little is all nothing to extreme. no harm but just a little warning ya know? damn people.
He clutched the torch close to his chest, sheltering it from the elements. The wind was wild as the rain poured down around him. He was worried that by letting the torch be put out he’d never be able to light it again, but only after he let the torch slip from his grip did he realize he could see better without it. The torch had provided its guidance, but without it he went off of gut instinct.
I grabbed the torch as I ran down the corridor. The masked man was close behind me, and that knowledge scared the living daylights out of me. I rounded the corner just as I heard him start down the stairs. I didn’t much time, and I knew it.
Margaret Hildreth
Forgotten by most, unseen by all, he lay in reclusive slumber. His past was storied and horrific when seen through the eyes of the mob, the eyes of those that judge but cannot be judged themselves. Monster, to him, was an adjective but not a noun. For decades he slept, fitfully, until that one fateful day; that one day out of thousands. Awoken and loosed upon those that sat beady eyed in the corners of pubs, whispering, snickering, he did all he knew to be right and moral. Unfortunately for him, morality was a relative view, and relatively obscure to those that would see him for what he was not. So, he found himself trembling and backed into a corner, with a swollen face so dimly lit by the fire held by the judges in their bloodied and stained hands.
a torch can hold a flame, light the way when darkness lingers, fill a heart with passion, light up someones life. _by anna Toepfer annatofu@gmail.com
Anna
The torch lit path led the way through the cave. It was the only visibility the team of excavators had. That’s why when the sudden burst of wind came from the other end of the cave and blew the lights out, everyone panicked and screamed. One by one…. The screaming stopped.
The torch was red. She was holding it in her hand, and all I could think to do was watch it. It flickered; the light flickered like her blinking eyes. And at that moment, I knew she was beautiful. And I knew I was lucky, because, she was mine – and only mine.
loren parra
carry the torch. carry the banner for people before us and after us. Duty. light. hope. Don’t let them down. don’t let me down. Don’t fail. Dont fucking drop it.
Annie
fire… yeah… burning happiness inside of my chest for you and only you. Forget ALL ELSE, BECAUSE IF ALL ELSE FAILS, i HAVE YOU, i KNOW IT. I get lost in your eyes. You are like fire, you burn through me.
This hurts, but I want it. You near me, despite not knowing how you feel, if anything at all, for me. I want you. Your touch, your hand in mine. You. Just you. My torch shining through a dark night.
ESully
Light the torch and watch it burn. As it smolders in my hand, smoke wreaths around my ceiling fan. I do not care. Let it burn. Let it burn. Why can’t anyone hear the smoke alarm now? My make shift light dims then fades. It is gone, and so’s my life.
the torch was lit, it made the road feel less empty. I was happy to have it there, it made me feel safe and warm. I never thought a single torch could make such a difference. Torches are shinny!!!! And they look very good when it´s dark outside and you don´t want to feel scared becuase the feeling of warmth and security they give you is very conforting. I like torches, i mean, who doesnt?
Elizabeth
a bright flame in the distance used by explorers who cannot keep themselves tamed from the exploration of the unknown in the dark not knowing what is ahead only the what the flame
Speanjo
When I think of a torch, I think of something hot, something bright. Something that brings light into darkness. Which always reminds me of Jesus and how He brings light into darkness. So, if you’re spiritually dark, Jesus can and will shine His light into your soul. And I pray He does.
She lit a torch and followed him down the dark entryway. It kept going, the dank wallpaper peeling from the old plaster walls. There was no way there had been electricity in this house. She reached out for him, grabbing the back of his shirt. He turned in surprise, but reached back and took her hand. It was cool to the touch. She held thetorch away from her, looking behind.
kate
It was the beginning of a new ending for you and I. The beginning of the dark and the ending of the light. The summers came and scorched our skin. It’s been hard just to breathe in
I have a torch. It is very big. It has a big flame that I don’t wanna touch. I don’t want to because it might burn my hand right off. I have heard that it is very hot. I am scared that I might touch it by an accident. Do you think I will? I hope not. Or else I will be hurt and sad. I like flames but they are scary. I never want to hold one. I think it will be scary.
Teddybear
Torches are very useful as they allow one to see in the dark. They can be powered by electricity, or simply be a flaming torch. The verb ‘to torch’ means to set something alight.
sarah
The torch of life set ablaze to her heart and she stumbled. Why is it that, in life, one will search and search for the truth and it will hide away? Then when one least expects it and has forsaken all search efforts, it comes crashing into your life like a meteorite to a planet. Why now?
Liz
The flame in my heart burns on, lit by the torch of your love.
The searing, blue fire licking away at all sorrows that fill my burning heart, while the heat of our passion brings us ever closer…
the torch when out. It was totally black inside this murky cave and I had no sense of feeling. It was cold and dank. I had no more matches and no more oxygen. The water dropped in the distance. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drop. and it somewhat made sense. I was the unlucky one. So unlucky to get stuck in this place without a light. Completely alone mind you. The ending was near and I could feel it in the starchy air.
Christina
the torch was handed off from child to adult to adolescent each knowing the power that they held. The moment it came to me I knew. I knew that my destiny was to save these people from the political propaganda that was this torch. I grasped the white handle sweat pouring out of my hands and ran.
mary
She carried a torch for him. A tiny flicker of a flame that she kept hidden in her heart, aware it would remain there lonely forever with her heart slowly freezing around it. A spark that can never die but blackens the flesh of the pounding toneless organ.
We all carry a torch within us. When we realize what we truly desire, when we realize a burning desire, our torch is lit. We carry that torch until we achieve our desire.
Shruti
The torch was bright with flames in his hand as he edged his way down the tunnel, the stone steps wet and slippery beneath his feet, water pooling in every dip and groove. It was dark, so dark that all he could see was the fire lighting his way. It was as if the shadows were too dense for it to penetrate further than half an inch or so into the gloom. he had to hold it at arm’s length to see the faintest outline of the ground ahead of him. He began to feel that there was nothing but him and the torch and the feel of the cold stone beneath his feet, as if he would journey on forever into the centre of the earth and out the other side, because there could be no end to the tunnel, nothing, nowhere to reach. Or perhaps he was stuck on a loop like a broken record, the steps going round and round and round in a circle. There was no away to tell. It was too dark to make out any distinguishing features. Nothing except the flame of the torch.
When he looked straight at it the light left searing patterns on his eyeballs, grey flashes every time he blinked. It stung, and his eyes watered, tears seeping down onto his cheeks. He was along beneath the earth, and he didn’t even remember where he was going, only that he couldn’t go back, not ever.
He paused for a moment, feet stumbled and scuffing on the wet ground, that tightened his grip on the torch and kept on going.
Penny-Anna
The torch flickered in the slight breeze until finally it extinguished. The last sign of life in a forest that had been overflowing with people not a minute before, gone. Maybe it was a sign, maybe this was the way it was meant to be.
Tonya Swindell
I hovered on my toes, arching my feet and stretching my arms until my fingertips brushed the aging wood. I was almost tall enough to reach the torch that towered high in the church halls. Almost, but never quite enough.
one moment at a time, light a torch and send it like a flowering body down the river I never crossed to meet you, who was me, before I bought a clock and was winding a death
Zachariah korth
The horse raced past the barn fell a man carried a torch with him gently into the city of Emerald, how the Orange of fire looks like Red when colors burn together in our Dusk…
The Tin Woodsman
i remember when i saw the light rising in the sky outside of those windows. the sun looked like it was carrying a torch, as it stretched itself over the thin divide, the expanse that was Lake Michigan and the feeling of soul crushing desperation that dried my throat, seeping far into the inner reaches of my heart, and sucking out anything left in me to see what fires had been put out. I carried that torch with me for days, at a funeral procession, and then across the state, I needled it into my ribs, and plucked at the flakes of fate up into my airstream in the gully of a hot evening thousands of miles due south, of a place that had no embers burning, not even a sign of smoke.
Kim
Scorching steel drains through the frailty of my little fingers, and I try to grasp onto something… hold onto it all. It just keeps falling and falling and seeping though me though. Blazing, with the light of an ever frightened angel, I see her face and she crosses over me peering through that glittering rim. It looks like a moon, and she looks like she’s holding it; cradling it in her warmth.
But all she dose is let me fall and keep falling.
fire light held by callous fingers connected to hardened palms aching for warmth from a melady talking in slurresd speech from beer and whiskey with dreams of pirateering and sailing the seas free of oppression and of rules and expectations and cold glares from societal norm men and women duchesses with beards running down their backs.
bnfmds
just thinking about fire. with a torch i could light up a cave. josh would be with me and we would have a great time all alone. alone would be amazing. without the kids. to go back in time for just a day to feel like alone with just josh. he’s the torch in my heart. ya know? i love him.
aj
I lit the torch as I entered the castle. It was dark, very lonely feeling. I knew I had to do what needed to be done, so here I was… Doing what needed to be done.
I climbed the stairs to the room in the tallest tower, opened the door, and saw her, laying there.
Hannah
fire was burning on the lone torch that was in the forest. It was odd that someone was even there at such a time of the night. everything was pitch dark, and nocturnal animals are howering. Suddenly, there was a loud crunching noise. The wanderer was not very frightened, it seems that he anticipated this noise.
i want to torch those pedestrians that screwed me over. just give them a little is all nothing to extreme. no harm but just a little warning ya know? damn people.
He clutched the torch close to his chest, sheltering it from the elements. The wind was wild as the rain poured down around him. He was worried that by letting the torch be put out he’d never be able to light it again, but only after he let the torch slip from his grip did he realize he could see better without it. The torch had provided its guidance, but without it he went off of gut instinct.
I grabbed the torch as I ran down the corridor. The masked man was close behind me, and that knowledge scared the living daylights out of me. I rounded the corner just as I heard him start down the stairs. I didn’t much time, and I knew it.
Forgotten by most, unseen by all, he lay in reclusive slumber. His past was storied and horrific when seen through the eyes of the mob, the eyes of those that judge but cannot be judged themselves. Monster, to him, was an adjective but not a noun. For decades he slept, fitfully, until that one fateful day; that one day out of thousands. Awoken and loosed upon those that sat beady eyed in the corners of pubs, whispering, snickering, he did all he knew to be right and moral. Unfortunately for him, morality was a relative view, and relatively obscure to those that would see him for what he was not. So, he found himself trembling and backed into a corner, with a swollen face so dimly lit by the fire held by the judges in their bloodied and stained hands.
You just torched my heart.
Burnt it to pieces.
Nothing left but blood and sorrow.
I’m hurting.
a torch can hold a flame, light the way when darkness lingers, fill a heart with passion, light up someones life. _by anna Toepfer annatofu@gmail.com
The torch lit path led the way through the cave. It was the only visibility the team of excavators had. That’s why when the sudden burst of wind came from the other end of the cave and blew the lights out, everyone panicked and screamed. One by one…. The screaming stopped.
light the torch in my soul, in my weary soul light the fire in my weary soul.
torchis fire on a stick minnesota state fair delicacy if you can handle the spicier stuff
torch is fire
carry the torch, gasoline drips onto the floor in bright fireworks, the torch sweats in its own heat.
The torch was red. She was holding it in her hand, and all I could think to do was watch it. It flickered; the light flickered like her blinking eyes. And at that moment, I knew she was beautiful. And I knew I was lucky, because, she was mine – and only mine.
carry the torch. carry the banner for people before us and after us. Duty. light. hope. Don’t let them down. don’t let me down. Don’t fail. Dont fucking drop it.
fire… yeah… burning happiness inside of my chest for you and only you. Forget ALL ELSE, BECAUSE IF ALL ELSE FAILS, i HAVE YOU, i KNOW IT. I get lost in your eyes. You are like fire, you burn through me.
This hurts, but I want it. You near me, despite not knowing how you feel, if anything at all, for me. I want you. Your touch, your hand in mine. You. Just you. My torch shining through a dark night.
Light the torch and watch it burn. As it smolders in my hand, smoke wreaths around my ceiling fan. I do not care. Let it burn. Let it burn. Why can’t anyone hear the smoke alarm now? My make shift light dims then fades. It is gone, and so’s my life.
the torch was lit, it made the road feel less empty. I was happy to have it there, it made me feel safe and warm. I never thought a single torch could make such a difference. Torches are shinny!!!! And they look very good when it´s dark outside and you don´t want to feel scared becuase the feeling of warmth and security they give you is very conforting. I like torches, i mean, who doesnt?
a bright flame in the distance used by explorers who cannot keep themselves tamed from the exploration of the unknown in the dark not knowing what is ahead only the what the flame
When I think of a torch, I think of something hot, something bright. Something that brings light into darkness. Which always reminds me of Jesus and how He brings light into darkness. So, if you’re spiritually dark, Jesus can and will shine His light into your soul. And I pray He does.
She lit a torch and followed him down the dark entryway. It kept going, the dank wallpaper peeling from the old plaster walls. There was no way there had been electricity in this house. She reached out for him, grabbing the back of his shirt. He turned in surprise, but reached back and took her hand. It was cool to the touch. She held thetorch away from her, looking behind.
It was the beginning of a new ending for you and I. The beginning of the dark and the ending of the light. The summers came and scorched our skin. It’s been hard just to breathe in
I have a torch. It is very big. It has a big flame that I don’t wanna touch. I don’t want to because it might burn my hand right off. I have heard that it is very hot. I am scared that I might touch it by an accident. Do you think I will? I hope not. Or else I will be hurt and sad. I like flames but they are scary. I never want to hold one. I think it will be scary.
Torches are very useful as they allow one to see in the dark. They can be powered by electricity, or simply be a flaming torch. The verb ‘to torch’ means to set something alight.
The torch of life set ablaze to her heart and she stumbled. Why is it that, in life, one will search and search for the truth and it will hide away? Then when one least expects it and has forsaken all search efforts, it comes crashing into your life like a meteorite to a planet. Why now?
The flame in my heart burns on, lit by the torch of your love.
The searing, blue fire licking away at all sorrows that fill my burning heart, while the heat of our passion brings us ever closer…
the torch when out. It was totally black inside this murky cave and I had no sense of feeling. It was cold and dank. I had no more matches and no more oxygen. The water dropped in the distance. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drop. and it somewhat made sense. I was the unlucky one. So unlucky to get stuck in this place without a light. Completely alone mind you. The ending was near and I could feel it in the starchy air.
the torch was handed off from child to adult to adolescent each knowing the power that they held. The moment it came to me I knew. I knew that my destiny was to save these people from the political propaganda that was this torch. I grasped the white handle sweat pouring out of my hands and ran.
She carried a torch for him. A tiny flicker of a flame that she kept hidden in her heart, aware it would remain there lonely forever with her heart slowly freezing around it. A spark that can never die but blackens the flesh of the pounding toneless organ.
We all carry a torch within us. When we realize what we truly desire, when we realize a burning desire, our torch is lit. We carry that torch until we achieve our desire.
The torch was bright with flames in his hand as he edged his way down the tunnel, the stone steps wet and slippery beneath his feet, water pooling in every dip and groove. It was dark, so dark that all he could see was the fire lighting his way. It was as if the shadows were too dense for it to penetrate further than half an inch or so into the gloom. he had to hold it at arm’s length to see the faintest outline of the ground ahead of him. He began to feel that there was nothing but him and the torch and the feel of the cold stone beneath his feet, as if he would journey on forever into the centre of the earth and out the other side, because there could be no end to the tunnel, nothing, nowhere to reach. Or perhaps he was stuck on a loop like a broken record, the steps going round and round and round in a circle. There was no away to tell. It was too dark to make out any distinguishing features. Nothing except the flame of the torch.
When he looked straight at it the light left searing patterns on his eyeballs, grey flashes every time he blinked. It stung, and his eyes watered, tears seeping down onto his cheeks. He was along beneath the earth, and he didn’t even remember where he was going, only that he couldn’t go back, not ever.
He paused for a moment, feet stumbled and scuffing on the wet ground, that tightened his grip on the torch and kept on going.
The torch flickered in the slight breeze until finally it extinguished. The last sign of life in a forest that had been overflowing with people not a minute before, gone. Maybe it was a sign, maybe this was the way it was meant to be.
I hovered on my toes, arching my feet and stretching my arms until my fingertips brushed the aging wood. I was almost tall enough to reach the torch that towered high in the church halls. Almost, but never quite enough.
one moment at a time, light a torch and send it like a flowering body down the river I never crossed to meet you, who was me, before I bought a clock and was winding a death
The horse raced past the barn fell a man carried a torch with him gently into the city of Emerald, how the Orange of fire looks like Red when colors burn together in our Dusk…
i remember when i saw the light rising in the sky outside of those windows. the sun looked like it was carrying a torch, as it stretched itself over the thin divide, the expanse that was Lake Michigan and the feeling of soul crushing desperation that dried my throat, seeping far into the inner reaches of my heart, and sucking out anything left in me to see what fires had been put out. I carried that torch with me for days, at a funeral procession, and then across the state, I needled it into my ribs, and plucked at the flakes of fate up into my airstream in the gully of a hot evening thousands of miles due south, of a place that had no embers burning, not even a sign of smoke.
Scorching steel drains through the frailty of my little fingers, and I try to grasp onto something… hold onto it all. It just keeps falling and falling and seeping though me though. Blazing, with the light of an ever frightened angel, I see her face and she crosses over me peering through that glittering rim. It looks like a moon, and she looks like she’s holding it; cradling it in her warmth.
But all she dose is let me fall and keep falling.
fire light held by callous fingers connected to hardened palms aching for warmth from a melady talking in slurresd speech from beer and whiskey with dreams of pirateering and sailing the seas free of oppression and of rules and expectations and cold glares from societal norm men and women duchesses with beards running down their backs.
just thinking about fire. with a torch i could light up a cave. josh would be with me and we would have a great time all alone. alone would be amazing. without the kids. to go back in time for just a day to feel like alone with just josh. he’s the torch in my heart. ya know? i love him.
I lit the torch as I entered the castle. It was dark, very lonely feeling. I knew I had to do what needed to be done, so here I was… Doing what needed to be done.
I climbed the stairs to the room in the tallest tower, opened the door, and saw her, laying there.
fire was burning on the lone torch that was in the forest. It was odd that someone was even there at such a time of the night. everything was pitch dark, and nocturnal animals are howering. Suddenly, there was a loud crunching noise. The wanderer was not very frightened, it seems that he anticipated this noise.
i am a tiki torch