SerenityThe shadows of my sins follow me,Serenity5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the demons of my life haunt me.
I look to the sky but I only see black clouds,
There isn't light at the end of the road.
There is no love in this life ,
Serenity is just a flower in the ice of sorrow.
SebastianDr. Liem leaned back in his downy sofa and gave a smile. 'Well, David, how can I help you? What's the matter?'Sebastian6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The patient, whose eyes were roving around the room until that moment, looked at the doctor and faltered, 'Sebastian'.
'Sebastian? Who is he? Tell me about him.'
'He is my room-mate. I moved into new lodgings on Golden Road two weeks ago. The landlord hadn't mentioned about another man', Dave shrugged and gazed into the empty space again. 'I was quite surprised. But just that. In fact, I hadn't asked if somebody was already there, and it' s not so uncommon accident when you rent a house. Maybe he had come in later the same day, before I arrived. Anyway. Actually, Sebastian wasn't a bad man. We even took to each other. The only problem was that he had really weird habits and was never leaving the house. At first, I didn't consider it something... out of the ordinary. He was just a strange man, like many others. But then inexplicable things started happening.'
'What kind of thin
BicicletasEl día que las bicicletas se rebelen, tomarán las calles. Los frenazos de los coches sonarán en el pavimento, y usarán cadenas y candados para conseguir su propósito.Bicicletas4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Las bicicletas no quieren ser sólo para el verano. No quieren compartir espacio con las avispas, que campan a sus anchas aquí y allá. No van a negar que tienen algo de miedo. ¿Y si, enfurecidas, pican en las ruedas?
Pero las bicicletas están más que hartas.
¡Coches, coches! Siempre prefieren a los coches, esto parece una maldita película americana. A ellas las limpian con un trapo mugriento hombres sebosos de calva incipiente ¿dónde está la espuma? ¿Y las chicas guapas?
En su manifiesto, reclaman sus derechos. Las bicicletas quieren ser montadas todo el año, lavadas y engrasadas por rubias de curvas voluptuosas, que les rían los chistes; que las avispas no se atrevan a acercarse. Rugiendo por la carretera, como tigres con sill
Rainy path from nowhereDeepest childhood rains on meRainy path from nowhere3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Ruins me to the edge of my end
rules my tears from the abysse
dwells in my dreams to an other life
See how sick I am
See my fears behind my eyes
This rain falls from the past
this pain is just too real
SleepSleepSleep8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Oh gods above, what had he done? The memories were fuzzy and vague, although there was no reason for them to be. Hed walked for hours, he remembered that part, though it had felt as though he had hovered above his own tired, charred body. Charred? A fire, he guessed, that hed somehow been caught up in. The sand was surprisingly cool beneath his cheek as he lay there, mind and body numb with confusion and the clench of guilt. Guilt, he realised now, sat where hed always thought love would, just below the ribs; a solid pressure pushing to meet his spine and go all the way through him. As depressing as it sounded, that was all he felt right now aside from the sand, and sand hardly felt solid. What was worse was that he couldnt for the life of him remember why.
Is he dead? Ryker felt something press against his ribs, a toe he guessed, but didnt move. He couldnt
Tribute to Masters of BlackMy dedication to the Masters of BlackTribute to Masters of Black4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
As A Black Moon Broods Over Lemuria,
A nocturnal Mayhem brings forth Funeral Fog,
Come Feeble Screams from Forests Unknown,
A Blaze in the Northern Sky follows.
Beneath the Burial Surface,
Under A Funeral Moon,
Upon the Kingdom Throne
I behold The Majesty of the Night Sky
And witness The Coming Storm.
As I slumber in unholy darkness.
Behind The Darkened Walls Of Sleep
I see Hecate Enthroned on the Darkthrone,
I gaze the Behemoth of the Dark Funeral,
I see the Shattered Gods of Bal-Sagoth dying
Before the eve of Armageddon Holocaust,
As the Misanthropic Masters will arrive.
I Walk the Path of Sorrow,
When Cryptic Winterstorms roar,
And Hordes arrive from the Darkspace,
Riding Through the Gleams of Death,
Through the Arch of Thorns,
Crossing the Triangle of Flames,
As they Enter My Black Dreams,
Screaming "We came back with the Nightfall!"
Thus come the Black Hearts Domain,
Invoking Spellcraft and Moonfire,
Summoning the Masters of Black,
Rabanos? Cap.1 Encuentro EncuentroRabanos? Cap.1 Encuentro7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Las estrellas titilaban perezosamente sobre el firmamento, como velas que iluminan el camino de los viajeros. Pequeñas y numerosas, se extendían formando un manto que lo cubría todo. De tanto en tanto, se podía encontrar alguna estrella que brillaba por encima de las demás, algunas otras eran tan débiles que apenas se distinguían en la lejanía. La mayoría eran meros puntos de luz en el infinito, indistinguibles unas de otras, que formaban una hermosa constelación, pero que una a una no eran más que otro punto de luz. Por más que brillaran o pensaran que eran más hermosas que
Piel de gallinaSe le eriza el vello, se le encogen las pupilas, se le aprieta el nudo que tiene en la garganta, hasta que casi no puede tragar.Piel de gallina4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Palidez. Sudor frío.
El amante de la piel de gallina enmudece al mínimo contacto, se vuelve hielo. Frío, se entrega, se deja hacer.
Una vena en la sien. Un tic imperceptible. Ella no se da cuenta.
El amante de la piel de gallina tiene miedo. Al sexo. Probablemente, nunca lo reconocerá. Ella seguirá pensando que es piedra, escarcha, un iceberg. Él seguirá sintiéndose como un pollo expuesto en la isla de productos cárnicos de cualquier hipermercado.
Hot Hotter Hot Hottest IntroMy balls were sticking to my inner thigh like a baby seal clinging to an Antarctic shore. Unfortunately, the camera was pointed right at me, so I couldn't do the leg-shake maneuver to get them loose. I saw the set of Hello, Good Morning! with Buster through two pea-sized holes drilled into my velvet helmet. Crayola had puked on the walls, the floor, the blocks, the rug, and even Buster. That was me, the rainbow-colored dog that came up on TV from dawn til noon. Outside of Busters Play Pen was the black, soulless collection of cameras and producers and directors sitting in fold-up chairs who occasionally yelled me through a microphone like I wasnt right in front of them. The sweat permeated in the depths of my fur suit because the air was recycled every time I exhaled. I re-realized how much I hated doing kid shows. Being on a childrens program was just like being in a porno; as soon you were recorded, no one could take your acting seriousHot Hotter Hot Hottest Intro6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Turnabout FangirlsTurnabout FangirlsTurnabout Fangirls6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
If Phoenix felt awkward snooping around Edgeworths office while the prosecutor was there, glaring at them, Ema appeared oblivious. Among the plush, velvet sofa and opulent furnishings, the defence lawyer was feeling out of his depth as he fingered his way over a chess-set that likely cost more than hed made in the last two months. His shoes felt dirty on the lush, burgundy carpet and if he bent his knees a little, he could feel the thick flooring give a little, still springy despite constant use. Far better than anything he had, both at home and in the office. Perhaps the prosecutors office paid for their staffs rooms, and the higher one was in the ranks the more their comfort salary rose. After all, who could afford floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a desk in solid mahogany when you were paid pittance? Then again, maybe that was just h
The CutterThe CutterThe Cutter10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
At the end of the day
She cuts away her pain
And knows she's not insane
At heart it's not a game
Not all just in her head
She wishes to be dead
And feels the sore lines; red
Not sure of what she's said
Her tears, but one, are duds
She smears away the blood
And her wrists still flow; flood
Her body trapped in mud
He doesn't know how she feels
She thinks this pain's surreal
And make believes in such a thrill
He doesn't know how to deal
She loves him it's so true
He stares in eyes; blue
And they don't know what to do
She looks into eyes; you
Midnight SnacksI hope that my leaving is just a minor hurtMidnight Snacks7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yet knowing that worse leads to worse
And how fretting multiplies, but starts inert
I will remind you of what we have with verse
Our love is like an ice box that sits bold
In the corner of a kitchen, dormant and hushed
A warm lifeline feeding and keeping the insides cold
Even as it works at its own pace, never rushed
The best goodbye would be in the boxs back
Taken only when loneliness paints the dark skies
Then, it would be drawn from the very last rack
Like a pint of rocky road in Comfort Me size
So I say, with love entwined in lines and feet
Despite the curving paths that fate has drawn
Despite the yards and miles, we are complete.
Remember me whenever the little bulb turns on.
Re: sound of raintiptap on tin roofsRe: sound of rain7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
as the world cries a message
that we fail to hear
SolsticeSolsticeSolstice6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Medici castle was on a scale that was rarely built on these days. Three hours ride out of Argonia at a gallop, it sat atop a cliff set just in from the sea, proudly overlooking the de'Medici's traditional holdings to Argonia's west. The land had been in the family for generations, and their line could be traced back even further than that. They were a force in politics, a well-worn family name that would come to Argonia's aid when asked and their constant grip on land so close to the city proved that.
However, it hardly made the place more welcoming in the winter. While heavy tapestries were hung up over the windows and fires were stoked at all hours of the day, there was a distinct chill to the air that crept through the walls itself. Torches lined the corridors, their shadows spooking the servant's children as their shirked their duties. The entire affair, outside of the noble's wing, felt much like a
SelfishSelfishSelfish7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
It was a hurried, messy meeting. Over a month had passed and while neither of them particularly liked the risk involved, what was meant to be a quick report had rapidly turned into a fully blown make out session. Mattie, tall, dark and still clad in his three-day-worn military colours had made short work of shoving all of Marquis neatly stacked paperwork onto the floor, pressing the smaller man down onto the varnished wood instead. Marquis would have protested were he not so occupied by the tongue down his throat and Matties heavy hands tugging at his hair. Hed worked hard to catch up his kings deskwork while banned from military campaigns and now hed have to sort it all again but it was so hard to be angry when the other man acted like this, like hed honestly missed him and for just now wanted to focus on the here, now and not what kept them apart. Mattie wasnt the talking t
OutcryAnd WomanOutcry7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
is sand, slipping
fragilely through my wounded
is earth, planting
ex</b>aultingly his seed
growing bountifully within.
is sand, slipping
carelessly through my swollen
Four over Five - KiribanFour over FiveFour over Five - Kiriban7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Whoevers idea it was to host a bar in the beached hull of a long-forgotten mariner should be labelled a genius. The black sea sloshed sleepily outside, blanketed by a sky loose-knit enough for the stars to peek through. Im romanticising it all; grungy high-rises pushed the beach back day by day, sand was doped up on forgotten syringes and Heaven lay like some beached whale against the moon.
Heaven. Stupid name for a bar, really. Id lost track of how many drunkards had shambled in hollering for entertainment, having mistaken the buzzing neon sign outside to be advertising a brothel. I felt the name a last resort, so out of place. The décor protested it. Countless shelves and crannies inside the bull boasted a maritime theme that was difficult to ignore. A brass teapot sat proudly in the porthole beside me, one of four Id counted through my visits, and bearded maps peeled free of th
AnniversaryAnniversaryAnniversary6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Their meetings were always hurried, full of touches that were just a little too hard and kisses that involved too much tooth. Neither complained, there was no time for them to argue now. No time for prolonged, wordless struggles as to who was on top, no time to tease. It just happened.
It was only in the afterglow, the bittersweet sweat and laboured breaths, that they talked. Quiet murmurs accompanied by lips on skin, a squeeze of the hand on a hip.
"I haven't got long." Jaye would say, his once perfectly straightened and styled blond hair now a mess, stuck to the pillow with sweat.
His partner knew, and would only nod, close his one working eye, and press his lips somewhere else on Jaye's chest. "Did you get it on disc?"
The blond always did he knew how it worked and sat up to pull it from his jacket. He could feel the other man tightening the arm around his waist, as if re
To be a Guitar+istLike from afar, the guitar mumblesTo be a Guitar+ist7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The buzzing crowd then heaves and fumbles
The leering ceiling shudders--
My sight blurs with sweat as I make the strings purr
Love is such a lazy note
Nevermind if alluring fingers always find--
They strut and dumbly dote along
The wanton path paved down my spine
The melody's beat swirls 'round my fingertips
The mellow bass suddenly invades my veins and I'm speechless
Metal cords smile into my skin-- make my back stiff
She smiles and sways while she's falling off her feet
Love goads me to play
Crackling lightning inside of me is all I can take--
The old hollow in me is missing today
My filtered voice wails my tale
The show is over and my feet guide one another offstage
My head twirls and my eyes are stained green
The light shines and snickers--
And then I'm just a fading breath on the microphone
My legacy may die in the air
Persephone Thesis: EssayPersephone Thesis: Essay ComponentPersephone Thesis: Essay6 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries!
It is generally accepted among historical scholars that the cult of Demeter and Persephone, or Kore, existed in Greece and the surrounding Mediterranean islands long before the traditional Olympian gods became entrenched. Her origins are Cretan . Like Aphrodite, the mother and daughter goddess represent a matriarchal form of fertility worship in the forms of crops and nature, and through this the cycle of birth, growth and death. This myth, however, has taken hold of imaginations from its evolutions into the Eleusinian mysteries of Ancient Greece, to the paintings of Victorian Europe, to today, each with their own distinctive takes and emphases on the story. Perhaps it is the fact that we know so little about the original tale of Persephone the daughter of Demeter, goddess of fertility, snatched
closedclosed9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For those preventing the dawning of light
the aesthetics of morning unable to be told
are the many who fear the congregation of happiness
Never to walk beside, but always behind
blinded by the spectacle of fear
Unable to touch the untouchable, the beacon of passion
and the realization of a heavenly dream
The endless tunnel of which they are to fall
stripped of all recollections of thier unspoken truce with fait
Little StarLittle StarLittle Star9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Your 'little star,' dangling on a tattered, frayed hem of string
Hopes found within a dream
Your 'little star,' shining as relentlessly as can be
Strength found with busted seam
Your 'little star,' fading away in black holes
OSS - Chocolate is Like A DrugChocolate is like a drugOSS - Chocolate is Like A Drug8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Attracting you with its fancy outer layer
Appearing as a harmless commodity
And all the while drawing you in
With its delicious addictive taste
'Til is has you in a vice grip