Novel & Cerita Bloody Canvas Lyrics

I had to face this fever all by myself. Sobbing escaped my lips just like that. Tears streamed uncontrollably, spilling to wet the surface of the pillow where my face was buried tightly. Self-pity struck my chest hard, making my body shake violently wrapped inside the blanket. I lamented this solitude, feeling so small and fragile in a narrow, unfamiliar room. My crying intensified, filling the quiet room without anyone to hear. I kept sobbing until my breath hitched and my chest hurt. That exhaustion and high fever finally crushed the remainder of my strength. Gradually, the sounds around me faded, and my vision darkened as consciousness slipped away.

I screamed at the empty walls. I raised the painting over my head. I saw the vibrant honey colors and the broken fence. I saw the lie of the light. With every ounce of strength I had, I threw the canvas at the white brick wall. The sound was deafening. The wood frame snapped with a sharp, violent crack. The glass that protected the oil paint shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds. They rained down onto the hardwood floor, clicking and sliding into the corners. The canvas slumped against the floor, a jagged tear running through the center of the sun. The Honey Light was gone. The frame was in pieces. The silence returned. I was the one who had broken it this time.

And what is happening in there town? They don't understand at all, and why this horrible act is happening in their town? All of them stood there stretching there head in confusion; trying to figure out why people are dying, and who is responsible for this terrible action, from that day forward they called it BLOODY DAY! To me, this is a big mystery that can't never be solved. ( This Story continued) ATTENTION READERS: This book have different series book 2-9

His legs gave out immediately and he slumped down to the floor, Enzo didn’t have to hold him up anymore because he seemed to have lost the rest of his strength. She could clearly remember the promises she made to the bastard on that fateful day. She would paint the carpet with his blood and he will feel the life leaving his body slowly, every wound, every hole his blood would seep from. He would first lead to where the other bastards were, then he would suffer every single moment until his heart stops. “Rain, why are you out of bed?” She was so consumed by the anger and hatred she felt towards the bleeding bastard on the floor, her entire body shook from the intensity of her emotions and she

If love is pain then set me on fire Keep lifting me higher in your veins If love is pain then throw me in the water When I’m going under save me again I wipe my tears that escaped from my eyes and took a break from writing. I sigh heavily as I wipe my eyes with my hands. I rub it for a while and stared at the lyrics I've wrote down again. They’re one and the same Freedom and pain I’ve been craving the former all my life ‘Cause I think it’s worth the sacrifice You’re freer than most You think it’s a curse You think you’re killing me Your venom is my medicine

Straight fire, bruh—crimson, gold, and orange poppin' off the canvas like nobody's business. And peep this—Ayana ain't just paintin' flames; she is damn paintin' a whole vibe. You can practically feel the warmth radiating from the canvas and the shadows cast by the fire. They are like some next-level artistry, adding depth and intimacy to the scene.

Man got his woman To take his seed He got the power, oh She got the need She spends her life through Pleasing up her man She feeds him dinner, oh Anything she can She cries alone at night too often He smokes and drinks, and don't come home at all Only women bleed Only women bleed Only women bleed Man makes your hair grey He's your life's mistake All you're really lookin' for's An even break He lies right at you You know you hate this game Slaps you once in a while And you live and love in pain She cries alone at night too often He smokes and drinks, and don't come home at all, ooh Only women bleed Only women bleed Only women bleed

I promised I would keep my eyes dry So I decided to let the doves cry And when I combust with fever, I’ll jump into a river And if it goes colder then I would just shiver You could’ve used a thousand darts Instead you shot a bullet to my heart I’m bleeding out as I watch you go and I watch you go Then there was a storm yet I know soon there’s a rainbow I shut my eyes the entire time I sang the bridge. I was letting the pang of rejection to an eventual decision to let go engulf my lonely soul with its blanket. I was strumming the guitar as hard as I could. I spat the words with such clear diction that everyone would understand every word. Oh baby, that’s a bullet to my lonely heart

But when I don’t still find the right words to introduce my art, I reach for the canvas right away. “My art is pretty self-explanatory,” I say while tugging off the silk cloth. The spotlight shines on my canvas, the projector picking the sight and displaying it on the big screen. But even I don’t understand what I’m seeing. The canvas has the tag ‘Nectar’ at its top, so I know it’s mine. But where did my art go? All I see, all the audience sees, are words scratched with red ink—words that cover the original painting.

He didn't even raise his voice to sound harsh, “Shut up, Janice.” Miss Lia shot Janice a warning look before turning back to me. “Lyric?” I swallowed hard and stood. The walk to the front felt like trudging through wet cement. I set my painting on the easel, my heart hammering. The colors looked angrier than they had before—jagged reds slashed through deep purples, chaos barely contained on the canvas. It was a painting of a storm, a hurricane, and a tsunami all in one. Perfectly merged together to form the perfect chaos.