************************
************************
************************
Cosplay, musical, webcomics, cakes, cats, cute things, dornish things, crazy things, foolish things, funny jokes and frequent nosense. You can found all of this on my tumblr U_U beware, I'm Valentina, queen of I don't know what, mother of waffle, queen of butt, *insert random titles here* follow me on the island of the waste of time <3
************************
************************
************************
*background pattern creator here -> sparklelife.deviantart.com/ *

O Captain! My Captain!

BY WALT WHITMAN

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

                         But O heart! heart! heart!

                            O the bleeding drops of red,

                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,

                                  Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

                         Here Captain! dear father!

                            The arm beneath your head!

                               It is some dream that on the deck,

                                 You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

                            But I with mournful tread,

                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,

                                  Fallen cold and dead.

Reblogged from songsofwolves  4,453 notes

songsofwolves:

Her hair was a mane of jet-black ringlets that fell to the small of her back, and around her brow was a band of copper suns. Where the Sand Snakes were tall, Arianne took after her mother, who stood but five foot two. She is still a little thing, the captain thought. Yet beneath her jewelled girdle and loose layers of flowing purple silk and yellow samite she had a woman’s body, lush and roundly curved.

*happy birthday m