Quotes About Desolation

The wine is gone. Only sour wine fumes remain. Drunkenness pretends to resolution.

The blood in the fine, white sand was only a few hours old, still gummy to the touch. The stench of loosened bowels soured the hazy air.

I am done with this world, for I am alone in it. Alone.

You misunderstand me. You always have. I have grieved, and that's faded away. Gone. Now … well, now there's nothing. A vast, unlit cavern. Ashes.

Blood-colored clouds stained the eerie crystal sky. The Darkhawk sailed low over a landscape covered with dead forests, dry plains, empty riverbeds and long-abandoned train tracks. Everything wound through a twisted network of jagged hills the color of bones, and pools of brackish water ran across the landscape like puss.

The land he crossed was cracked and withered, much like his skin. The wind blew hard along the gullies, whipping up sand and scrub. There were no miracles in this place, least of all miracles of life. Dust and bones, sand and souls; that was the way of it. How

Were there any places in this shunned landscape that bloomed with colour and life?

As the warm and living palpitation diminished into the cold and silent roches, the dwindling group of unroched saw their hopes become fears. All had succumbed eventually. All. Until Casmeer had been left alone in the city, listening to only a sour wind and the quiet inner throb of his own grief.

Taziel's clothes lay strewn around the floor of the darkened room, limp ghosts of his long body fashioned in fabric.

The narrow streets and modest plazas were empty of life and slick with rain, while above them the soaring ateliers brooded, their dark windows as blank as weary eyes.

She had an emptiness in her eyes like a ghost tired of haunting.

It is not a fragrant world.

Being homeless is like living in a post-apocalyptic world. You're on the outskirts of society.

I believe in the lust of the flesh and the incurable desolation of the soul.

You must have brought the bad weather with youThe sky's the color of leadAll you've left me is a featherOn an unmade bed

There is no reason to be in touch with you I m reduced to sub existence

He stretched out on the bed and was suddenly struck by how utterly lonely he was.

...what is the meaning of La Belle Dame Sans Merci? - have you never been enthralled? enchantment that is unrequited desolates the soul...

I have poured my heart out ….And now I am empty.

His walk and stare. Was as poisonous as the air after a nuclear bomb.

We were left with nothing because of a love like acid that ate its way through our entire family.

The dark sky seemed to swallow the moon, as Samantha stood alone on the deserted highway.

Amidst the dim & desolate backdrop that was my world, a seed of hope bloomed into a garden of joyous wonder.

She felt worthless and hollow. There was no hope of fixing this. And when hope is gone, time is punishment.