Miralce Of Sound - Sovngarde SongFrom the mists of the mountains a deafening call
Bellows down over the plains
On a host of battle-worn ears it does fall
Pushing out through the thunder and rain
These men of the north they have suffered too long
The anger it swells in their veins
Of the spirited roars of lost warriors' songs
Distant echoes are all that remain
And my voice is my violence
Clear the sky's frozen tears
And no more we'll be silent
With this Sovngarde song in our ears
And we stand tall
Sons of the snow
We will not fall
Under these blows
For our hearts they are hardy
Our spirits are strong
And our voices are lifted into
This Sovngarde song
Conquer the anger and ravenous rage!
Make it a part of your power
Pummeling down let your bloodlust engage!
Under your force they will cower
Feeling the fury so pure and so bright
Breaking the bonds of surrender
Under the moon for our home we will fight
And we will die to defend her
And my voice is my violence
Clear the sky's frozen tears
And no more we'll be silent
Own Little WorldOwn Little WorldOwn Little World3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
In this world you are told to explain and explain everything you do.
What if there was an escape?
What if there was something to let you be more free?
I know of such a place.
Slip in to the world where the air you breath is yours.
Nothing to overwhelm you, and nothing to cloud your mind.
You can be anyone, do anything that you would ever want to try.
Time does not exist here, therefor.
We will never die.
23. WarmthI know this room so well. Every detail. Every item is where it belongs and has always belonged. Ever since I made this room my sanctuary, a peaceful place I could enjoy alone or with Hanako, not a single thing has changed. I know where everything is, yet I've never seen any of it.23. Warmth3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When I marked the tearoom as my own, I asked Hanako to place the table and chairs right beside the window. I like to be able to feel the weather, feel it all around me. When it's sunny, I sweat in the heat. When it's raining, I can hear the relaxing pitter-patter of droplets on the window, and feel the coolness of the breeze that accompanies them. When it's windy, I can hear the rustling of the trees below us.
The door creaks open slowly. There isn't a need to ask who it is.
"Li-Lilly..." Hanako mumbles and I turn to the direction of her voice, smiling. Three shuffling footsteps, then the door is closed again.
"Good afternoon, Hanako. How are you today?"
"I'm... okay. I was going to visit the library, but I w
Love is BlindAct 1: A New BeginningLove is Blind3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
We are sitting across from one another in the tea room, as we do most days. Today, however, something feels different. Winter Break is coming up, and while I've never been one to think too much on my family, something about the season makes me feel guilty for how little attention I've paid them so far during my stay at Yamaku. It's not like they have done particularly much to contact me either, but they've always been busy. I've had all the time in the world to try to write, at least when you discount the time of my second hospital stay, which was the only time I've really seen them since I've been attending school here.
The soothing voice snaps me back to the world around me, as Lilly tries her best to meet my gaze from across the table. It's just another one of those small gestures that I've grown to appreciate. "Is everything okay?" I sigh. "It's nothing. I wouldn't want to bother you with it." Her look changes from curiosity to one of sorrow. "You kn
Lilly SatouThough your eyes can not see,Lilly Satou3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You can feel I'm here.
Your blue eyes unable to grasp an image,
It must be terrible.
You may have learned to adapt,
But I feel you may be in pain.
When you hear me,
You know exactly where I am.
And when I'm in pain,
You don't know what to do.
But I'll be your eyes, Lilly.
I'll do anything I can for you.
you didn't listen when i saidthe thunder is an earthquake,you didn't listen when i said3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
waking my bones, waking my blood,
waking me up like a bump in the night.
i want to say
this is for everyone who has realized that
humans are just fragments of regret and hope
but it is more for you than anyone else.
and it is so easy to fall apart without you
but i am holding on and
i'll be okay. i'll be fine.
4 things about a boy who called himself man1.4 things about a boy who called himself man1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
he would reply,
"well, you asked for a man, didn't you?"
and i would have to press my
whole-lotta-honey colored lips together
"and i got one, didn't i?"
his words were always cold when he was with me.
the thing i loved most
about him was the fact that he wanted
to teach me.
about the things he loved,
about music, about appreciation,
and i think at some point he wanted to teach me
(he just didn't go about it
the right way, i don't think.)
"i want you to have these experiences,
even if we don't
end up together."
and i guess that should've been
my warning sign.
that we weren't going to end up together.
it's not easy to remember the little
stuff about me.
it's not easy to remember
all my little dates and the fact that
i'm sick or need medicine.
(and i guess
that since he was the first one to do it,
it just attracted me more,
and i suffered for hoping that he loved me,
it's not easy to remember me.
but i don't think he'll forget me.
FeatheredHer angel wing hair,Feathered3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
splayed across her back, will catch
her as she falls (flies).
AngelsEven angels haveAngels3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Tough times and struggles sometimes.
No one is perfect.
It's Complicated...I thought it was bestIt's Complicated...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Everything I did
Telling you that it
Was undoubtedly the end
The end of something
That never really began
The end of something
That you felt was so grand
I did nothing wrong
Well at least in my books
But according to you
It was entirely my fault
YouThere's blood on my hands andYou3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Gashes on my heart.
I'm bleeding out, inside.
I'm crying in the dark.
The restless nights of shame and
Broken days I've spent.
I'm trying to live again.
I'm trying to repent.
But your not helping to heal
The wounds that hurt so bad
Your ripping me up again.
Your enjoying driving me mad....
Maybe you should.Forget you ever knew me,Maybe you should.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Forget you ever cared.
Forget we made those promises.
I guess your judgement was impaired.
I Miss YouI knew before I ever picked up the phone.I Miss You3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The house was settled in the darkness and
Those shrill rings made my legs go numb.
My groggy mind and nervous heart made
Me pause before I lifted that plastic brick.
The very second after I answered "Hello",
I promised myself I would do away
With devices of sickening intelligence.
For the life of me, I could not recognize
Your sisters quivering, young voice.
It was tangled by the rope of distance
And bound by the chocking wire of grief.
No words were even said yet I found
My head exploding with a language not my own.
I let the phone fall from my hands where I
Imagined it would shatter and was offended
When it didn't. How could it not?
Who gave the world the right to maintain
Functionality and order in such a time?
I was only able to sleep because my body
Exchanged itself for the promise
That it was all a cruel dream.
I never woke from this nightmare.
In the early afternoon our friends
Found me and washed away
My fake reality.
Numbers are ExhaustingHenrietta says there's only three days in a year - yesterday, today, and tomorrow. She doesn't have a single calendar up in her house, while my room is filled with enhanced photographs of the same mountains taken in twelve different months of the year.Numbers are Exhausting2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She says Mondays are too loathed to be considered a real day, and that Fridays are too anticipated and idealized to actually exist. I argue, say we need weekly patterns to give us something to look forward to. At this she clucks her tongue, shakes her head real slow, and hands over my lemonade with a mournful air, as if I had just committed one of the seven and a half deadly sins.
Dates are even more bizarre to Henrietta. She always asks me why we number time, the closest thing we have to immortality, and why we celebrate it when it comes to an end. Every New Year's Eve she goes to bed at 8:15, just like always, sleeping through the annual cycle of casually throwing out one year in exchange for a new, shinier one.
She doesn't know that I
Serial Killers Like Taylor Swift TooI curl up in front of the televisionSerial Killers Like Taylor Swift Too2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On early Saturday mornings,
Cereal accompanying me as
I surf HD Technicolor waves.
Cartoons are on, cat and mouse games
Acted out by mute, animated fictions.
Rerunning soap operas are playing,
Squeaky clean and altogether lacking
Dirt and blood and real life.
The news is on too, always on,
Showing us their new faux weather reports
As they flash their million dollar
Smiles and tell us about the latest shooting
In Oakland or Freemont or Palo Alto,
And how the murderer killed 24 and a half
Not-so-innocents, on a whim.
Through my sleep-blurred eyes I can tell
The killer looks familiar, maybe from
My school in San Francisco, perhaps
The queer boy who always admired
I Hear YouCan anybody hear meI Hear You3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Or do I appear mute?
Am I a worthless catastrophe
Or to that will someone refute?
I don't want to be alone and scared
I just wish someone was there
Those devilish smiles
Stain the empty corridor
Reminding me that all the while
I cannot ever escape the horror
I plead for the smallest amount of mercy
As the darkness greedily takes me
I weigh the strength of the edge
The slightest pressure shall send me plummeting asunder
Crimson defiles the tears I shed
If I were gone, would I be remembered?
Do I even matter?
I wonder if I do, but why bother?
--Look at me; I am here
Don't be rash; you were never alone
I hear you, crystal clear
I would miss you if you were to go
You matter to me, do you not see?
Take my hand; I'm staying for eternity
The Formal End to EverthingIt was the last day of life and we needed something for them to remember. Something that would be able to hold all of the world, all of us, even after we'd gone.The Formal End to Everthing2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Todd suggested a capsule scarcely bigger than an aspirin. A space-time pill, he had said. None of had ever agreed on anything, but now we did. Maybe having twenty-two hours before everything ends does that to a person.
So we started injecting our keepsakes and memories into the capsule, the soon-to-be last remnant of us. I included a kaleidoscope I wasn't able to see out of, and the day of my seventh birthday party. Ma put in her best dress, a Thanksgiving, and the feeling of wind blowing through her hair. Dad contributed his old Ford pick-up and the sound of crickets at night. And Todd, well, he just spoke some words and tucked a photograph of our dead dog Gracie into the very back. He was the one who closed the capsule, sealed the last of our space-time into its small case, and sent it off on our last rocket to wherever life
Mirror MirrorI stood in front of an unfamiliar mirrorMirror Mirror2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It wrapped around me, showing three angles.
Stark walls with only hooks to hang clothing.
I strip to my bra and panties
Frowning as I glance in the mirror
I stepped onto the viewing platform
Next to naked; feeling exposed and vulnerable
I look into dark blue-green eyes
They stare back at me blank, in a scary way
My eyes move down, frown deepening
"What happened?" Escapes my lips
My skin is a battlefield, it's so obvious I'm loosing
I've been consumed, what isn't red and fresh
Is varying shades of pink and purple, colors of scars
Mo beautiful white skin anymore
I gingerly shrug on a lose top
Wincing as I pull it over my shoulders and arms.
Then I gently tug on a pair of shorts
As they scrape over scabs I say a silent prayer,
"Don't let me bleed on clothes that aren't mine."
I look in the mirror again, the clothes fit
I look good but the horrors of my skin are in-ignorable
I shut my eyes and steel myself
I question leaving the private room in just