Brush the Sky~Brush the Sky~Brush the Sky5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
When I entered hell
the demons all had wings of black
slick and ridged and shining
graceful on their backs
When I entered heaven
the angels' wings were white
glistening and soft and smooth
spreading wide in flight
When I entered the forest
the fairies watched me pass
their colorful wings aflutter
shining mosaics of glass
But the wings I hide are dreary
and monotonously grey
they gape with holes and broken bones
in a lifeless sort of way
If I pretend that nothing's wrong
as I fly with damaged wings
Perhaps will all that hurts me
turn into better things
Spiral staircase to somewhere
they say you'll touch the sky
but I can't even brush the clouds
with wings that will not fly
Honorary Jack Frost dayQuietly, a young man with brown hair and a long flowing coat walked through the forest. He happily kicked around piles of snow, snapping frozen twigs under his shoes and tearing up the grass.Honorary Jack Frost day3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Hovering above him was another young man, this one much younger in appearance, who wielded a frost covered stick in one hand and a snowball in the other. With a large grin, he threw the snowball and hit his target directly on the head.
Hey, if you were going to come into his territory, you might as well pay the price.
The man looked up at the sky, shaking snow and water from his hair. Shivering, he shook his coat, keeping his eyes trained on the sky the whole time. Jack, the hovering boy, let loose a cheerful laugh which rang through the forest. He didn’t think twice about it; there was no chance that anyone would hear him, so why worry?
But the man underneath him persisted, squinting up at Jack until his laughter faded and his smile switched into one of complete fascination.
For a Girl in the Messinese languageFor a GirlFor a Girl in the Messinese language3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Prou ena Nina
Prou en' nina tanto hormosa
ániman emóu vou na dá
en cutiyou cun dio yamnou
emóu carziá intraba.
Men me mirá; sto yorans,
e cantandon ce cuaisou,
tou gauzia 'mou e tanto gran
non tá possou supportá.
Men tá gauzia 'sou tenei tou, hica
prou ei auba cuomo chia,
mage abè en' osscurio hica
cuai cremaroun a carziá 'mou.
For a Girl
For the girl so beautiful
I would give my soul
a double-edged knife
piercing my heart.
Don't look at me; I am crying,
it is singing that I want,
my joy is but so great
I cannot bear it.
Don't withhold your joy, young girl,
for you are white like snow
but there's a darker girl,
who set fire to my heart.
Sapphire de Mont vs Canon - Ch2Most students, unaware of the fact that every time a Mary Sue dies, a new one is born in its place, went from actively trying to befriend Sapphire to avoiding her like the plague. This caused her great distress. Why was it that every time she sat down at a library table to study and chat with her fellow students, they'd immediately have to leave?Sapphire de Mont vs Canon - Ch23 years ago in Humor More Like This
And why did they all have to iron their dogs, anyway?
They couldn't get away from her in class, though, so Harry was forced to listen to her angst about her tragic past in Charms while Flitwick was out of the room. Her eyes were a sparkling cinnamon brown today, which complimented her brown, earthy-looking jewelry. Three bracelets clunked together on her left wrist and a beaded necklace was around her neck. Her uniform skirt was decorated with a light purple scarf, wrapped around her waist. Her perfume smelled of mulberries and strawberries.
Harry sighed, resting his chin on his hand and trying to ignore Sapphire.
"I always had a fascination w
eight things about growing up.eighteight things about growing up.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I told my brother I was going to be a fairy when I grew up. Or a bird, or sprite something with wings so I could touch the clouds.
I learned that fairies weren't real when I was six, after I tried to jump off a parking structure to see if I could fly.
That day I also broke my leg in three places and saw an angel's face in the clouds. (And don't tell anybody, but sometimes I spend all day looking for him.)
My neighbors back in Denver had a son who was a schizophrenic. After he went off his meds for the third time, he painted the windows red and told his wife she had to abort their baby because it wasn't human.
A year later, I heard that he was arrested after pointing a hunting rifle on his family. It was loaded, but he didn't pull the trigger because his mother said she trusted him.
I guess love is kind of like that, too.
Seattle didn't come until I was fifteen, in October.
My family and I took a boat ride on Friday. We listened to the captain
BrutalityRip my heart out nowBrutality2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Take it, and as you leave me
Forget and crush it
EMO is notEMO is notEMO is not5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
EMO is not
Or hating the world because it doesn't revolve around you
Not locking your door
Or a type of music
EMO is not a person
A feeling of being completely alone
It is not hate the world for not revolving around you
It's hating yourself for not for not being seen by anyone in the world
Not hating the world
Emo means Emotional
Not hate or goth
But the ability to feel and see yourself
And be able to express yourself
Wearing black because you feel you're not part of a set pack
DawnDawn3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
How dawns the morn so very bright and bold
that night's dark face can only turn away;
and all our dreams in sunlit skies are sold
as eventide gives pardon to the day.
She feels the cloak of dreams unclasp their sway
and fading softly spun into the gold,
that she will rise from sleep and make her way
ere morning grows another second old.
A fairytaleI have treasures and jewelsA fairytale3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Anything a man could desire
Glimmering gold and shinning silver,
Ruby rich rings and crystal crowns
There is something though,
Something that mortal men value
I think they call her,
Maybe if I take her
The people might be nice to me
Lands worship me,
For I am more precious
Than any metal
I don't do much yet
People love me
On another boring day
It bursts through.
It takes me
And flies far, far away
From my safe castle.
How dare it take our princess!
Taking our gold, burn our villages
But this time
This time it has gone too far.
Do not worry my princess
For I shall save you
If you just hang on.
I think she is scared of me
But who wouldn't be?
I took her from her home,
I breathe fire,
I am full of claws and teeth
Maybe I should take her back
I just want a friend though.
IT maybe isn't so bad.
IT brings me food,
And doesn't hurt me
I just want to go home though.
I burst through the cave wall
You shall not hurt our princess!
I shout, valiant a
The PianistHe played the piano. All day in his home near the town square, people could hear the faint melody of the keys. But at night, when the town was blanketed by the navy velvet sky, the notes carried through the air effortlessly, calming even the angriest of men and lulling the minds of the ferocious dogs that barked for hours on end. Babes needed not the soft tunes of their mothers' lips to carry them into the land of sleep, for he who played the piano had taken that shift upon himself.The Pianist5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And tonight, the babes were hushed into peaceful slumber, mothers silently grateful for the sweet reprieve. Men wallowing in the taverns had come to stand beneath the full moon, regardless of the heavy downpour. Many ears were deaf of all save for the slow and graceful melody that seemed to come from everywhere at once, almost a second blanket to the town underneath the midnight quilt pierced with tiny diamonds.
High above the town, atop his home, he played. Face upturned and eyes squeezed shut, he let his
Where Trolls meet Biology: Part 2, GillsWhere Trolls meet Biology: Part 2, Gills3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Okay, so the next thing I want to tackle is where the gills are on the seadwellers. I see a lot of headcannons where the gills are on the ribcage/torso running horizontally under the arms. Frankly, this does make sense on the surface. It's flippantly logical and I don't blame the fans that subscribe to this headcannon. Seeing as how prevalent it is, I'm not about to trash it.
But I don't think that's how it would work.
Here is my reasoning:
The biggest issue with having the gills on the chest is a little thing called the ribcage. Anyone that has taken even rudimentary anatomy knows that the ribcage is a solid wall of bone, cartilage and muscle that enables breathing (via the diaphragm), protects the vital organs, and provides posture. This is especially important in organisms that walk uprightmeaning it's important in the trolls as well as humans. This rules out anyone's argument that maybe their ribcages are different than ours-- they can't be, not if they're going to walk and l
InsanityWhy must I continue to fight?Insanity4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Why can't I just run away?
Why won't my legs let me run?
I want to be a coward, a coward....
I can't run away from my fears.
My destiny will not control me.
I shouldn't run away, I shouldn't run away.
I must stand, I must fight.
Charging onto the battlefield,
Dashing through the enemy,
A wave of destruction spreading in my wake.
I'll destroy all who stand in my way.
Yes, all will be destroyed.
I will destroy it all with my own hands.
Nothing will stop me now.
I shall wipe them all from existence.
What have I done?...
I've destroyed all I've hated.
But also all I've loved.
I have nothing left to lose.
I do not care anymore.
Hot blood flows through my body.
Millions of thoughts race in my mind.
I cannot make sense of it all.
There is no one there.
Everyone's gone, all gone.
Have they left me, or have I left them.
Or were they ever even here at all?
The KrakenThe Kraken3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your life is a boat
Wandering the desolate seas.
But then nothing.
Until the heavens open.
The seas waves grow and grow
Hitting your mast,
What guides you
pulling you on your right path.
In the dark deep waters
Lurks a demon.
A demon so big
It will swallow you whole.
until your last dying breath.
Your worst enemy.
It will wrap its deadly tentacles around you.
Squeeze away your pleading scream.
It's your life's worst enemy.
Becoming BrianThe soldier coming up on him was swaying, limping, climbing wearily up the stony street towards the terrace. He walked like an old man, thought Brian Strong, though he was scarcely older than Brian himself. He dragged himself along, tripping over the cracks in the cobblestones, hauling behind him a filthy rucksack all covered in gray trench clay. Pausing by the café, the old boy took off his garrison cap and worried it between his black-tipped fingers.Becoming Brian4 years ago in Historical More Like This
"Well, hey," said Brian Strong. "Sit down and have a drink on me."
Regarding him for a moment, the soldier conceded and sat.
Brian Strong ran his hands over a perfectly polished uniform and propped his shiny-shoed feet up on the trumpet case under his table. The fellow soldier opposite him rested his head on his hand and, though his eyes seemed hollow, Brian thought with a good night's sleep and a shave he'd be right as rain. He looked like a man who had seen things, thought Brian, and done things. A worldly man. He saw now that t
go to sleep little writerFingers lay gracefully on the key boardgo to sleep little writer4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Poised ready to pounce
Music plays in the background
Words weave through my mind
But nothing makes any sense
How can I put on paper what I myself can't understand?
How do you tell a story you can't hear?
How do you answer a question you never asked yourself?
You wait and the answers will come to you
The clicks of the keys tell you
You've started something
Now just try and kill it
You should have never put your hands on the keys
Just let the words continue to weave
Didn't you listen when they said?
The sword is not stronger then the pen
But you let the word flow
You've started there's no going back
You're a writer now
But you should lay down the pen
Just for now
You can always take it up again
It's the path you have chosen
But now it's time for bed.
A PromiseA Promise8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Summary: The three of them had promised to be together forever, but now they're growing up. Do things really have to change? [oneshot] [RikuSoraKairi]
Disclaimer: It's too bad I don't own Kingdom Hearts, well I do own the games, but owning the rights to it all would be like a dream come true... Even if I was killed a second later by rabid fangirls.
Dedication: to my dearest Draggy and Plushie daughty 3
"If it's love that keeps us breathing,
Gives us something to believe in,
Is it fear that makes us blind?"
-"Why is Love so Hard to Find" by Jesse McCartney
The three of them had promised. Together forever.
Sora reminded them every morning, his bright smile and silly hair always flung every direction.
Kairi had to ruin it, of course, Sora We cant be together forever you know. One day
A true heroA true hero3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
don't back down.
You can win
if you only try.
Sword in one hand,
shield in another,
he stands over his charge
ready to die.
He was the person
that you told everything to.
The one you went crying to.
The one who never ran out of hugs.
The one who soaked up your tears.
The one who you carried around everywhere.
The one who always slept by your side.
He's your teddy bear.
He guards over you at night,
because while you might not believe,
the monsters are still there.
They come at night
when you don't expect it
to take what they want.
you don't run to him anymore
your teddy bear remembers.
He remembers the endless love.
He remembers everything.
Every night he stands
sword in one hand,
shield in another,
ready to fight.
All for the person
who loves him the most.
The Unseelie courtThe Unseelie CourtThe Unseelie court5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As beautiful as a feather in descent slow, as beautiful as entrails on marble raw
As beautiful as icicles, Faerie wings impaled
As beautiful as diamond, Mortal blood they trail
Grave RosesDon't rest roses on my grave,Grave Roses2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
trail of bouquet that you pave.
Vibrant death, ignorantly conveyed,
leading too, my buried cave.
What flowers, my love, have you brought today?
Soil in dead eyes, all to grainy.
Memory waning, soon to forget.
A bold quartet, pedals of debt.
Ah, a rose?
Don't mask your woe, we both know,
I am gone, grown so cold.
Fading marrow, in my bones.
Corpse alone, parted soul.
May I love, be so bold?
let your heart bleed,
forever sorrow, forever grieve.
Let me be.
And on my grave, let grow weeds.
Don't rest roses on my grave.