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Spirits of the Past Part 2Spirits of the Past Part 21 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Back at Phantom's Abbey, the three people and a panther had settled down somewhat after Robin's hasty entrance and departure. In the nights to follow, the little family would spend most of their time in this grand hall, playing Erik's considerable collection of instruments, reading together in books from the library that the Phantom had amassed over his lifetime, telling stories of their own, or simply playing with Balzac, who had joined them in their travels as a cub in Africa. However, tonight, Gustov was a little more restless, "Father, may I go and explore?"
"Go, and be free,
Ere long you'll see
That this old abbey
Has more secrets t
Endiara's MaskEndiara's Mask1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hidden beneath those emerald eyes,
And dark lush hair,
Lay the truths of our dear fair maiden.
See the mask cast away.
She smiles among her falsities,
Playing her games,
Daring, inviting investigation.
See the mask cast away.
In the dark clustered corners she hides,
Friend of spiders.
She spins her clinging webs to catch her prey,
See the mask cast away.
Seeking naught but death's brooding shadow,
She screams at night,
Caught by desire for vengeance and power.
See the mask cast away.
Rising immortal, incomplete soul,
She is sorrow,
Reaching blindly, she falls into the depths.
See the mask cast away.
Dear HalloweenLights ablazeDear Halloween6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
All upon the street
Come! Gather around, children!
For an absolutely wonderful treat
Set off past the hills
To the olden graveyard, I suppose
I swear on the bible, children
This wonder will tickle your nose
For observing these gimmicks play out
Will be sure to make you shriek out for help
I swear on the cross, children
And if it lies, I kill myself
So quickly! Quick!
Make haste in my direction
You may get a little soiled, children
Upon closer inspection
Only a single grassy hill away
Perches the horrid tales end
So don’t stop moving, children!
No mean to offend
Here we stand
At the point of utter must
[7] unreadShe haunts the streets at night.[7] unread10 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sharp eyes scan the alleys, pierce the shadows, but she does not skirt the darkness. She welcomes its refuge. Her home away from home, here, the place where she ironically feels safest in this foreign world.
Street smarts aren't everything.
Nine days later, an envelope will be slipped into her casket at the viewing.
Tounge TiedTOUNGE TIEDTounge Tied6 years ago in Humor More Like This
"Don't worry, we won't hurt you . . . much." These were the words that my shoes uttered to me whilst I was prying myself out of the pile of chairs that had been dumped on me. At that moment I merely thought that I was delusional from the massive blood loss that had come from a rather large head wound, incurred by a microphone stand that someone had hit me with. Now what had happened was that there was a riot at Gigantour which was started when I accidentally kicked some guy in the back, who then proceeded to punch several security guards and grabbed the microphone stand. I'll let you fill in the blanks about what happened because
Existentialism Exploration2 a.m. on Sunday morning and he’s staring at the ceiling, counting water stains.Existentialism Exploration4 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
He goes to church, just because, and listens to the sound of words like “grace” and “salvation” and lets his eyes find the broken lines and chips in the podium.
Breakfast is toast, because that’s all the diner downstairs serves, and it’s always eaten in five neat bites.
Light is always white, never sterile.
Stars are planets, never things to be wished upon.
And people are atoms and molecules and tissue and sliding muscle.
He works as a dentist, and asks “How has life been treating you lately?” and makes
CoB: HeatedCoB: Heated11 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It had been a long afternoon, with no wind down the gorge to break the sweltering grip of the summer sun. Even down on the waterfront there was no relief. Workers on the docks had stripped their outer layers, some even bare to the waist, their only means of enduring the oppressive heat.
Not Barris. His tabard stayed on, with the Fleuracy badge pinned properly to the shoulder. Shirt sleeves fastened at the wrist, collar decorously closed around his neck. Trousers tucked into boots that had been polished with care the night before. He had tied his black hair back, to keep it out of his face, but that was the only concession he'd made in his ap
A.A. Block takes a restA.A. Block takes a rest2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ночь, улица, фонарь и вьюга,
Могучих душ круговорот.
Противный мир возьмём за дуги
И поместим наоборот,
И не у
Bezliki YanusУ неё не было лица. Стройное тело, милая головка с остренькими рожками, упругие груди, полосатый хвостик змейкBezliki Yanus2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Field of DreamsField of DreamsField of Dreams5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
By Ryan Ashley
In the Field of Dreams, Imagination is given wings.
Strife melts away, hearts start to sing; reality is pulled apart by the seams.
Love wisps by, on winds sublime; apart from space and apart from time.
Wherein, hatred is the only crime. The Land of Peace, Dreams, and Rhyme.
In the Field of Dreams, you never walk alone.
No matter where you are, wherever you roam, in the Field of Dreams... You are home.
WallUm mural repleto de relíquias de um passado.Wall4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Elas não fazem mais sentido,
e senão por um sentimento de nostalgia
não deveriam estar aqui
Não foram erros como pensei que fossem
Não foram, contudo, eternos como quis que seria
Apenas não foram mais.
Sinto um estranho esvaziamento
de uma vida que vivi e não me resta
o que posso fazer senão deixá-los para trás
se suas lembranças sequer me doem mais
Aquilo que tanto foi...
Hoje, quando me saltam lembrando-me de algo
apenas indistinto recordo alguns momentos fugidios
Para enterrá-los outra vez e vez outra
Não me significam mais
O passado não é eterno
Ele muda aos meus olhos,
a ca
Hand In HandHand In Hand2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hand in Hand
We walk together hand in hand
Our bodies connected with strings
We know the looks in each other's eyes
Each of our souls seem to sing
Our pinkys hooked together
We can never be apart
The firelies glow around us
Our trailing footprints leave marks
Eyes looking at each other shyly
We have run out of words to say
Our minds thinking the same
As we walk in flowers of May
Touching lips for a brief taste
Of honey or left over sugar
Still inside your mouth
My arms resting on your broad shoulders
I blush when you hold me
Closely keeping me warm
In the chills of bitter wind
You and me, I couldn't ask for anymore
your eyes were paleblue sleepyall i want is someone to play piano balladsyour eyes were paleblue sleepy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for me,
and not promise me anything
so nothing gets broken.
saturday night i almost said
"kiss me just for the sake of it" because
you were looking at me with those eyes
too long to be safe,
but i didn't say it.
i definitely feel you cracking my ribs
open enough to come back into my heart
but it's okay because you're not the type
to make promises.
I Awake2 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry
More Like This
he was an artist.he was an artist.3 years ago in Letters More Like This
Brock -
Perhaps I miss the idea of you, a shock of red hair and a smattering of freckles and braces across your teeth, and hands that could paint the way I sometimes can write poetry. It's appropriate, don't you think, that the only place I ever knew you was at a museum of art.
You thought I was a painter like you, and while I can take a pencil and draw my heart out, I simply haven't figured out how to mix myself with paint and turpentine and brush my soul onto a canvas. It's you who could do that, more so than the rest of us who were there. You, who knew how to create the ripples of a quilt with a paintbrush, hunched
Ode to FenrirOde to Fenrir2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Young,
son of Loki
Judged
by his father's
actions
Locked
away as a pup
dangerous, mischievous
Tied forever
under bows
under earth
Broken, beaten
left locked
away
Fenrir
we feel
your pain
you're lonely
afraid
Fenrir
raise your voice
be heard
by all
who seek you
your strength
your power
freedom, immortality
Break free
of restraints
holding you
raise your
amber eyes
Sing
Fenrir
you grew
wise
Locked away
from all eyes
CHILDREN CRYINGCHILDREN CRYINGCHILDREN CRYING2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
The children are crying,
The children are crying,
Women are weeping
Men are dying.
Their feet dangle,
Blowing in the wind,
Like a forbidden fruit
O' what a sin.
The children are crying,
The children are crying.
Frozen in Time3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry
More Like This
Norway X Reader Pocky GameNorway X Reader Pocky Game9 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
((Warning contains Prussia with a camera and I'm using their human names.
Enjoy and please please comment and fave :3))
Norway X Reader Pocky Game
---------------------------------------------------------------
Lunch time.You, Emma, Emily and Amy are sat at the benches
under the big oak tree that lies near the entrance to the
school. As per usual you are all ganging up each other in a
game of truth or dare. You,Emma and Emily mostly gang up on
Amy as she can be a sour puss.(There is always one)
"Truth or Dare ____?" Emma asks with a grin plastered on her
face as if she has a plan to end your life right there, right
now.
"Dare" Y
Castles in the airCastles in the air8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Even the fools daydream...
That something could go on well,
oh, for a single time
they build castles in the air,
daring to hope, dream
to find a temporary haven of peace
to escape to during the winter
and dream of spring...
two dovesin the dark melting of your irises like chocolatetwo doves2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i found what i thought i was looking for
but they turned to cold coffee sometime around
7 a.m. when the sharp relief of your collarbones
couldn't lift me up enough to care
the bruises beneath your eyes haunt me
and like ghosts they cling to the rush of air
behind me as i walk--
i told you things like how never let me go was
the saddest book i'd ever read, how i cry over
the things that never mattered
and it's hard to get me to respond to tragedies
tangled up under the cheap quilt in your living room
we confessed little things
and you kissed the freckles on top of my ears
--the g
Haters are Gonna HateHaters are Gonna Hate6 months ago in Letters More Like This
Haters are gonna hate
Some people in their lives will have haters stalk them ,send them hate mail,
make their friends stab them in their backs, and make others hate them with their lies, pretty much try to hurt them in any possible way that they can...
If this sounds like you, well then listen up your not alone,
around the world there are people like us that seem to get hate all the time and
enemies,,, , why do you get them and what can you do?
Well first of all we get haters for these reasons
1) We have a talent
2) you're a people person
3) others like you
4) Your life is successful
5) you feel good about yours
CrayonsLife is like a box of crayons.Crayons5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
At birth, you're given a great big box of them to share and add color to your life.
Some colors get used more than others.
Sometimes, a crayon gets broken. A Bright color gets snapped in half and tossed in the garbage can, never to be returned. Sometimes you keep coloring. Sometimes you can't. That color was important.
Sometimes a crayon is gained, shared between two people. That color might be just perfect, and works great! Other times it's a different shade, but it will make do.
But, there is always one color left in the box.
Black.
It's normally unused until death. It's used to frame the picture. To ad
Sta.sh
