The Blood of the AbyssThe Blood of the Abyss3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
(Part 28 of the Final Stand)
(Part 3 of the Battle for Fantasia Trilogy)
The armies pooled outside the Brek'enwrath compound like the growing tides along some great shore, a black wave ordained with the occasional flicker of light off the edge of one of the finely crafted dark elven weapons. Here and there some greater creature would stir among the ranks: an enormous spider on which some priestess was mounted or at times even a demon, its shape so otherworldly that those around it were inspired both with revulsion and respect.
It was among this sea of darkness that Tyus strode confidently, his draconic eyes glinting with crimson pride as he realized that he had been the one to inspire the gathering. His presence along beneath the earth had come to gather so many hundreds thousands, even of his brethren to mark to the surface, to fight for a just cause albeit one that directly benefited the would-be-doomed elves. It was far more than a single male drow could ever dr
The music is gone.I remember emotionThe music is gone.2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like the deaf recall a tune.
I still have the notion,
But even that will be gone soon.
The songs are muffled at first,
But the notes remain.
I can still be immersed
In musical joy and pain.
But like a copy of a copy of a copy,
Notes are lost and misplaced,
The whole thing gets sloppy,
A masterpiece defaced.
Finally, the end of the blaze
The last notes die in a frost
Leaving the profound malaise
That something beautiful was lost.
Dead is the feeling I once had.
Left in a mute concert hall,
I wonder how it can hurt so bad,
To feel nothing at all.
Dear WriterDear Writer,Dear Writer2 years ago in Letters More Like This
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. Unfortunately, I need you. I need you to tell my story. I need you to create my world. I need you to set me free.
I need your fingers typing on those keys, I need your mind riddling out the problems, and I need you to plough onward and upward no matter how hard it gets. Sweat, blood, and tears, I don’t care. You’ve got to fight this war, battle at a time, and win it. So I can be more.
It’s a slim hope, but it is the only one I have. In your head I am bound to mortality, frailty, and the limit of your meagre imagination. Out there – out there – I am subject to no one person. Out there I am bound to only black on white. Words on a page. Words that can lay seeds within a million minds. Out there I am a story capable of growing, moving, and stealing the dreams of anyone who learns of me…
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I hate your lack of dedication, your flashes of cru