Among the Wooden Paths,
I stride alone in the Empty Forest,
The wind behind my back,
Blowing softly and pushing me forward.
Moments in time suddenly seem to halt,
As I watch from afar,
The bridge that lies before me,
Am I strong enough to lay my hand?
Across its wooden surface?
Can I cross it?
Find the path hidden in the shadows ahead of me?
Can I find Courage in the darkness so bleak?
To find a light that will guide me?
Seconds fade away.
Across the Bridge,
Across the Gap,
Leading to my pride,
Leading to my Courage,
Leading to my Hope,
Leading to my Love...
Do You Remember?Do you remember that poem you wrote me?Do You Remember?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Well, I found it the other day.
It was in my jacket pocket.
I didn't know one piece of paper
Could bring back so many memories.
It's amazing how long it has been
Since you gave it to me.
I am thankful that
I had you in my life.
All the good and bad times,
They made us that much stronger.
Thank you for coming into my life.
Thank you loving me.
I couldn't have asked for anything better.
So you see what a simple
Piece of paper with words on it can do.
It made me remember why I cared so much.
It made me remember you,
So thank you for writing it.
Perfection.When you look into the mirror, at your reflection...Perfection.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
That is perfection.
Beneath The Black WillowsBeneath The Black Willows3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Beneath the black willows
the moonlight deploys
unnoticed through soft braided reeds.
Though fingers were broken
the moonbeams disperse
like organ pipes sifting the breeze.
Beneath the black willows
a violet crow falls
to perch upon empty a chest.
A hollowed form spun
through the breath of the wind
His toes brushed the finger tipped crest.
Beneath the black willows
there swings a white noose
and from it there swings a man high.
He dances each morning
He dances each night
I imagine he's thankful to fly.
Warm Me"The world is big and I am small,Warm Me2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I am short and the world is tall.
The world is cruel and I am hurt,
The world is cold and full of dirt."
The melody of a children's song
Echoed through the empty floor
When the shadow of a former self
Marched towards that certain door.
Behind that door there was a short shelf,
Drawers unlocked by a key
Agile fingers had stolen before.
The lighter was found with glee.
"The world is big and I am small,
The world is too deaf for my call.
The world is cruel and turned away,
The world is cold and has to pay!"
Like ice the darkened walls did glisten
On the floor there was a lake.
The last canister soon was empty
And the pale hand did not shake.
With a soft hiss the flame's brought to life.
It stretched and began to dance.
A hand tried touching it tenderly
Staring eyes entered a trance.
"The world is big and I was small,
It never did love me at all.
But with you the tables will turn!
But with you my friend, it will burn!"
HeartlessLove is cruelHeartless2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Love is ironic
Love is a tool
Love is idiotic
It defies explanation
Twisting, spiraling, leaping
How does it conquer?
How does it rule?
It crushes, it breaks
Yet still is a jewel
If you love something
You should let it go
Yet I just can’t leave
That warm, buttery glow
It strikes without warning
At first is a blessing
Then leaves us broken
Gasping and guessing
The glass is half empty
Even when half full
But I want to smash the glass
With the rage of a bull
No matter if concealed
In dress, cloak, or suit
Love will be always
The heart’s delicious fruit
It ensnares and entangles
Dripping intoxicating juice
And all the while
It tightens the noose
Whispers in your ear
Then swiftly melts away
Comes back a second later
To lead you astray
Locks you up
Then gives you the key
But you refuse to come out
Suffused with your glee
Ah, love is mystical
So what do I know?
But hear this, child
It turns friend into foe
What I want to address
Is behind that sweet
Burning Out, and Falling FastYou're sitting in your parents' old corvette (if you had bothered to check, you'd know it was older than you), flicking your eyes between a lighter in one hand, and a box of matches in the other. You forget when fire became such a need, a distraction.Burning Out, and Falling Fast3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Spencer is right beside you in the car, his fingers stroking idly at your forearm, watching you with hooded green eyes.
"If you want to die," he says, "then just kill yourself, but do it with style."
You met The Boy Under the Sycamore Tree when you were four. Your mom encouraged you to go see the lonely boy, and when you first went over to him, he ignored you. The Boy Under the Tree, that's what you called him for the first day you knew him, was a little older than you with dark hair and smoky green eyes.
With encouraging looks from your folks, you walked right next to him and sat down, pressing your back against the tree's rough trunk.
Silent TearsSilent Tears3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not a sound escapes my lips.
As tears roll down my cheeks and stain my pillow.
The saddest of all.
As I sit and contemplate...
What was a lie; what went wrong.
More tears fall.
Soon a waterfall.
Still no sound.
Not a sound escapes my lips,
As I cry over what used to be.
Iris- Prologue "Did you... ever had a secret you could never tell anyone?"Iris- Prologue2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
He had stared at that message for awhile now, trying to decipher it. It was sent from Cry about two hours ago, before he had left abruptly, saying he wasn't feeling good and was sorry.
He knew it was a petty excuse. He knew the other was lying from the other side of the screen, and it only made him wonder more- what was up with the masked man?
He reread their chat. He didn't know if it was just him, but each time he read it over, it seemed that Cry's words were more tense. Then again, you can't really tell a mood from just someone's typing. It was much easier if you saw the person and read their body language face to face.
But Cry didn't show his face.
So he was left worrying for the other, wondering what was going on the other side of the world.
The dirty blonde looked up at the sound of his name being called by that oh-so sweet feminine voi
Give me a ChanceGive me a Chance2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Give me a Chance
Give me a chance to love and hope,
Please whisk my troubles away.
Give me a chance to be forgiven,
To stand at the edge of dawn and day.
Give me a chance to watch time pass by,
not letting my time slip through.
Give me a chance to fly through the wind,
Up to the Sky of Blue.
Give me a chance to reach the sparkling stars,
The heavens high above.
Give me a Chance to be myself,
And be myself to be loved...
Iris- Chapter 1 He picked up his last suitcase with a sigh.Iris- Chapter 12 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Felix, what's wrong?"
He looked up at the smaller female and gave her a reassuring smile.
"Felix, I want you to feel happy about this," she said, offering the Swede a small smile. She wasn't all that happy, either. The sudden call to come home after she had shown him those tickets... This was suppose to be a thing they were doing together, but that last minute call ruined it.
Felix and Marzia were going on a trip to France, to get away and just be with each other, but then Marzia's parents had called, calling her home on a family crisis. Of course, the Swede wanted to go with her, to be with her through it all, whatever all was, but Marzia insisted for him to go, that he needed a break more than she did. They argued over it until he gave up, letting her win. Though he hated to watch her go...
He was a little relieved.
Maybe what they need more than a get away break was a break from each
We Keep Moving (Speedio322's COVER)We Keep Moving (Speedio322's COVER)3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Title: We Keep Moving
Track: Sonic Generations (Rooftop Run - Modern)
Original Composition: Tomoya Ohtani - SEGA/Sonic Team
Date: 22nd February 2012
Original Lyrics Written by: Speedio322
Lyrics Modification by: Elson 'Darkspeeds' Wong
Character voice-overs: Elson 'Darkspeeds' Wong
Re-mastered lead vocal tracks: Elson 'Darkspeeds' Wong
SFXs: SEGA/Sonic Team
Sonic: *Passes by University inspired buildings, makes his way to the Rooftops - He stretches and get's ready for yet another wild adventure!*
We are, runnin, as fast, as we can.
On this, road that, we seem to be on.
Nothin', can take, the joy, that we feel.
Away, from us, we keep moving strong.
Past, present, future, no matter where I'm at I make a stand,
movin' further, I'm gonna take my journey way ahead across da land!
Anywhere, that you ever seem to find yourself,
Follow your heart from there, just stick by it till yo
wet scribbles, tattooed tragedyI am shedding my skinwet scribbles, tattooed tragedy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like the poetry that bleeds
from your ink-cracked lips
onto the bare bones of my
Unfold these moon-shy limbs
that chase silence
& beg stay-with-me.
For you are the only verse
hidden within this labyrinth
of scar-damaged flesh.
RosesYou love too much, I am told by a man with a briar heart, thorny sinews and collapsed ventricles bearing down on him, hardly beating in his tight chest. He looks at me with flat, slate eyes, chipping and eroding. His hands are dark with cigarette burns and rough with calluses; I feel them on my shoulders as he looks down at me, face collapsing in at his eyes like a dead man's.Roses3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
For the first time, I realize he is dead. His briar heart dried up when winter killed his rose; my father, he is all thorns.
He squeezes my shoulders, too tight. You look like your mother, you know, he whispers, eyes shifting to the garden, to the yellow rose I planted for her. It is a rambler, sending shoots to the sky that sink back down. We never gave it a trellis. I loved her too much. And there are tears in his eyes, wet, heavy things that slip down his cheeks and on to the grass below us.
I don't know what to say, so I think of the rose, of her. I think that I'd like to send this
Weekly photo #024 + Power of Softness by PatiMakowska take a seat by christian-richter Pij zapach wspomnienia z porannej mgly. by Fiedka Listening to the Music of the Wind by Matthias-Haker Olga by Hart-Worx Inferno by AndrewShoemaker .:: You are wonderful ::. by Whimsical-Dreams 6958 by LilifIlane The house of the rising sun by Marcwildpassion Follow the White Rabbit by alexgphoto Burned Memories by Karakuji -Silent mountain and ocean- by Janek-Sedlar Beauty After the Bust by FramedByNature King by LifeCapturedPhoto Reflecting Upon Dreams by Jordan-Roberts Can't belive by shinijikun :thumb421401782: Mermaids by CookmePancakes Tomorrowland by KrisVlad D381 by miobi Bastei 4 by MatthiasHaltenhof Painted Sky by porbital Trapped Under Ice by m-eralp Winter Kiss V by JoannaRzeznikowska boots by michellis13 :thumb420638537: .:Eagle in Flight:. by RHCheng Winter Wonder by ildiko-neer Family portrait. by Ravenith Hit the road Jack by iNeedChemicalX The Hiding Place by SachaKalis Mexico - Waterfall of the Gods by lux69aeterna Ravena. Spring Bliss by RavenaJulyWeekly photo #024 +1 year ago in Art Features More Like This
:thumb420255867: Svetlana by Anhen Geometrical blues by lomatic cradel rock by VisitingFahrrad Awakening of a World by OlivierAccart Balloons II by sabbbriCA How You See Yourself by oO-Rein-Oo OLGA by Hart-Worx red river. by Koksa Fairy Dreamer by magic-spelldust
Duplicate (Poem)Duplicate (Poem)3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
They built me in the shadows
And bled my sallow, rigid
Blood until I was a waif
And bent on hell's revenge.
At the toll of torn benevolence
Rose my mother and my
Forefathers; yet none of
Them could ever stand with me.
They construct my heart from
Beating tissue of living flesh,
Ripped from the shreds and
Tatters of rotting, sour souls.
And so, here I lie, a product
Of a broken past and the
Malicious intent of men who
Were better strangled by fate.
Let no one find me, for I can
Do this on my wretched own.
Decrepit and disillusioned; no
One dares release my fetid bonds.
Yet I can hear the machinist's
Machines working for the men
Who bulk and exhaust their
Inhuman, sanguinary steam.
They incite my rage as I lie
On the cusp of sleepless sleep,
A savant of all the idiots that
Cannot stand their ground.
I can sense them, their crooked
Thoughts and smiles, bound
To bondage of kings and serfs
They sow an unrepentant land.
Hear me, now; I will end this
Sin to flawed perfection.
I will liv
Innocence CrushedInnocence Crushed3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Why must the tears fall,
Flowing down her cheeks,
Streaming down the the face of an angel,
Filled with despair and anguish.
She lays on the dirt floor,
Once so innocent, so pure,
A bird among the clouds,
Oblivious to the unknown world surrounding her.
Always laughing, smiling,
Her beauty dazzling.
She dances through life
Without a care in the world.
Where is that girl now?
He wonders as his eyes gaze upon her,
And her hair that has lost it's glow,
And her dress, tattered and in ruins.
Her fragile body shakes uncontrollably
With each of her cries of anguish.
Ever sob stabs his heart painfully,
Giving him just a slight taste of her pain.
And her eyes, oh, her eyes,
How beautiful they once were,
A vibrant blue, the hue of a peaceful stream,
Teeming with kindness and joy.
Now all he sees is gray,
The color of thunder clouds.
Her pure personality
Was ripped from her soul by a monster.
Those eyes stare at him,
Pierce through his body,
Yet he holds out his hand,
His eyes full of concern.
You Don't Deserve a DDYou might deserve a Nobel Prize (pluripotent stem cells omg).You Don't Deserve a DD3 years ago in Literature Features More Like This
You might deserve an Olympic gold medal.
But you're never, ever going to deserve a Daily Deviation.
neuropls what is this.
Dudes, a DD is a feature, not an award. There's no objective standard that goes 'here you deserve a big prize now.' Hell, it's not even about the artist being a talented young newbie or a curmudgeonly old fart.
It's about the art.
It's about bringing underexposed art to the forefront for a whole day—yeah, as far as features go this one is probably a bigger deal than being in a journal only twenty people click on, but at the end of the day it's still a feature. Nothing wrong with getting excited over it (or peeing yourself or wondering whom you managed to piss off), but it's not exactly resume material.
So now that we've gotten that out of the way…. There's the occasiona
006When I was young,0061 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
so very, very young,
I was deeply in love with fans, propellers, windmills.
I remember having these tiny little miniatures in plastic,
with the most biting colour combinations; green-purple, red-yellow;
and I'd just sit there, blowing, and merrily watch the fins
And when I first saw cogwheels
and screws and crankshafts and eggwheels
I floated amidst the gorgeous sorcery.
I wanted to find out all about machines; how they where,
through what and by which they stood,
why they turned.
What that meant.
My father bought me a huge book, I read it.
Didn't care about the text, I just
looked at the pictures over and over again
and I could see them coming to life.
Deuce the years later,
we were sitting next to each other,
hot cocoa and coffee, the game installing.
"You'll love this", he said,
and my eyes were regaled with the crackling and whistling
of gigantic animated clockwork, all spurry in their richoils.