Reverie Sentences Novels & Stories

Reverie stormed in, a frown plastered to her face. "Can someone please tell Sebastian that I will not go on a date with him no matter how many times he asks!" She screamed and came to stand before me. Her black mini skirt left little for the imagination whilst her emerald shirt only relied on imagination. Nonetheless, she looked a vision with her red hair and endless legs. Jealousy coiled within my eyes. "As if sent by God herself!" I chirped and looked towards Julian. Reverie had stumbled into the wrong conversation and she was going to be of great use, whether she liked it or not.

Rolling gently up to repeatedly break upon Magical banks girdling Nivians lakeshore. For what be this odd muse That upon my aging senses does so readilyEnthuse...And to my inner soul so inextricably Implore? Ahhh...But this much I may be allowed to Say, Before darkly gathering skies extinguish Over weak flames of the last spluttering Ray, Perhaps it is our inner voice That seeks out the solitudes of Tranquilities choice - To witness and record and dutifully store... Those rare and fleeting moments We all too briefly adore.

All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o’er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o’er the scene Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leant against the arméd man, The statue of the arméd knight;

He closed his book and put it back on the bookshelf before returning to the couch and leaning his head on his hand. "May I recite it to you?" It was a timid attempt of redemption, and though in her chest her heart was trying to relearn its delicate waltz, she gave a slow nod before placing her hands in her lap and gazing into the fire. The disjointed rhythm of her heart dimmed as phantom-limbed memories gathered in her throat and scratched against her skull to get out. Scratching, scratching, scratching. "There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream; the earth and every common sight to me did seem appareled in celestial light: the glory and the freshness of a dream..."

I was adamant about not passing away until I could see her once again. Illusions started to dance in front of my eyes, blending together and overlaying one another. The stifling cold caused my senses to become dulled, and the margins of my thoughts became indistinct. My respiration became more labored, and my eyelids became heavier. Each inhalation produced a rattling murmur. Right now, where was she? I felt a deep and unyielding sensation of remorse that swept through my entire body. I wished I had been more powerful and intelligent, and wished I had taken more measures to safeguard her.

“Revon!” I cried out as my eyes flew open, thrashing and flailing as the sudden blood rush made me feel dizzy. The image of my lover disappeared, along with his warmth and happiness, leaving me in the cold, hard present, where he was absent, shattering all my hopes and dreams. “Revon, no, come back!”

His voice, soft and soothing, washed over me like a gentle breeze, calming the storms within. I remembered how he'd doodle in the dirt, creating intricate patterns that only he could possibly understand. The memory flooded my senses like a sudden rush of warmth, enveloping me in its tender embrace as though it had been waiting patiently in the wings, eager to be relived once more. It was a memory etched in the deepest recesses of my mind, a precious gemstone nestled amidst the rubble of forgotten days, waiting to be unearthed by the gentle touch of remembrance.

“Damn it! Why does everything feel so wrong?!” --- That evening, Argan sat in his car, staring blankly at the orange-streaked sky. His heart was torn apart by tormenting doubt. His phone rang—Revania’s name lit up the screen. He hesitated, then answered. “Argan, where are you? I need you now. I’m not feeling well…” Revania’s voice was weak, pitiful. Argan closed his eyes. Every time she spoke like that, he felt chained to protect her. But now, suspicion gnawed deeper.

Drenched in or dried up bloomed up or withered ‘way, lived for or lived on, sought after or shooed off, rejoiced or rejected, benighted or enlightened, felt close or felt within, sizzled or silenced soothed or sheathed I wonder, “What now?” And you say: “Why? It’s the crystal drops of moments, creating a stream of tales about you and me!”

he breathes, his words carrying a weight of reverence and longing for the memory that haunts his thoughts. With a steadying breath, Kaden's frustration ebbs away, replaced by a softer expression as he delves deeper into his recollection, each word a brushstroke on the canvas of his memory. "Do you know that the shade of her auburn hair is rare to be found?" he muses, a note of awe lacing his voice as he reminisces about the ethereal beauty that left an indelible mark on his soul.