Upiorny blask wolnosciAutor: HeidiUpiorny blask wolnosci2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Fandom: Axis Power Hetalia
Paring: sugerowany RusPol
Ostrzeżenia: chaotyczne, tematyczne, angstowe
Bardzo dziękuję Soracie za przejrzenie tekstu! <3
Upiorny blask wolności
Roztoczyli przed nami...
Imperium nad księstwami!
Medale z orderami...
Zwinął się w kłębek i przykrył głowę poduszką. Męczyły go niechciane myśli. Jak to możliwe, że wciąż pamięta, że słyszy tamten czas?
- Co się dzieje?
- Nic – wymamrotał w materac.
- Na pewno?
- Tak – uciął.
Niemal widział trybiki pracujące w głowie Warszawy i ucieszył się, gdy drzwi cicho się za nią zamknęły. Chciał być sam.
Rozkazali za nami
Zabić karabinaMinami granatami
- Feliks! Felek, na Boga, gdzie jesteś?
Krzyki rozlegają się wokół niego. S
.sooner or later,.1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the tooth fairy picks up a
hammer and chisel
Here, I will beHere, I will be3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Here I will be,
Waiting for you,
When the time will come,
When our hearts finally meet.
In the past,
My heart had been broken,
Broken so many times,
That the pieces of glass, Were so small,
They couldn't be pieced together.
You did something that was
You gave me a new heart,
A heart without any bruises,
A heart without any bends,
You gave me a heart,
That is so brave,
It glows bright,
So bright, That I am no longer afraid,
Afraid of my fears from the past.
In the past,
I would have never thought that such a thing,
Would be possible,
But that is love,
Love is something that amazes us,
Its powers are so unparalleled,
That we can't even begin to understand,
What lies behind the word, Love.
It is so powerful it gives us something that escapes us, Bravery.
Here I will be,
Waiting for you,
Hoping to find the answer,
To what Love truly is.
The person I will love,
Look at me,
Our appearance may be different,
Our levels of Bravery are differ
What is Russia?Just what is Russia?A country that is so cold.A country so old.What is Russia?3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
A country so big.A country that is unique,with unique people.
We know its background.How they were once enemieswith America.
But now things have changed.We are enemies no more.Now we like Russia.
We like its people,its nature and its buildings.It is a good place.
What's today's Russia?A country that is still cold.A country still old.
But now it is good.Even if it's made fun of,we still love Russia.
Don't MournLet me fly high,Don't Mourn9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
high up in the sky.
Let me dive deep,
deep down in the ocean.
Let me quickly fall,
fall down back to the earth.
Let me slowly float,
float back up to the surface.
Don't mourn me,
when you find my body.
Either on the hard ground of the earth,
or between the soft waves of the ocean.
Don't mourn me,
because I'm gone.
Don't mourn me,
because I will never come back.
because I once was alive.
because I loved life.
.my cat has nine.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
lives and i fear he will
spend each one doing
the same fucking
staring out of the
window at the birds on
the fence, when he could be
out there, sinking his
The Ice AngelThe Ice Angel3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
An Angel on this Field of Ice,
I hesitantly step on this,
Field of Ice.
This surface of ice,
It is but the most slippery,
Field of ice.
I try moving slowly,
On this surface of ice,
But my Crooked skates,
Knock me off balance.
As I start to fall,
For the very first time,
I accept help,
And In no time,
A hand catches me within the fall,
She catches me from my misery,
And helps me escape the pain,
Field Of Ice.
With the sweetest voice,
Asks me,"Are you OK?",
Even though I seem afraid,
I nod aimlessly,
While I reach for her fragile hand,
I grab her hand firmly,
With the the grip even death itself,
Knows to be too tight.
This grip is,
And Almost unbearable.
Even though it is so hard,
For her to bear,
She continues to hold my hand,
Helping me inch forward on this slippery,
Field of Ice,
At first we move slowly,
But our speed gradually increases,
She lets go,
Telling me, "I will be back"
I watch her c
DW's Guide on Art CommissionsDwwrider’s Guide on Art Commissions on deviantART (last revised September 2014)DW's Guide on Art Commissions7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
This guide is based off of my personal experiences of commissioning artists on deviantART. I hope future art commissioners or artists who take commissions find this information useful. I'll try to update this guide once a year. Please look at the title to see when this was last revised.
DISCLAIMER: ***READ ME PLEASE***
All the information in this guide is a recommendation and results will vary. I wish the very best for the commissioner and the commissioned.
Table of Contents:
Phase 1: Determine the Subject/Topic of the Commission
Phase 2: Search for an Artist on deviantART and Other Websites
Phase 3: Learn about the Artist’s Commission Availability, Rules, Rates, etc
Phase 4: Screen Your Candidates
Phase 5: Communication with the Artist
Phase 6: Developing a Commission Write Up/Description with References
CopperThe underside of my heartCopper1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
has rusted through the shell.
Smooth tissue hangs, sodden,
through the ring of oxidised needles.
The frantic muscle
takes on water, tries not to drown,
in the body of fluids
you spat into my chest cavity.
Heavy barnacles of regret
cluster cancerously 'round 'til,
like all else, they disintegrate
with the acidic memory of you.
Star-writHear me read it!Star-writ2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is nebulonic fate that we should dance
together in this burning bald ballroom
as the flames lick up the sepiatic walls
and drip curled paper down upon us.
It is our right to spin each other here
in the torrentous reign of flames and ash
as the chandelier, already hanging,
spits and sparks at us, trying to take us too;
and as everything we ever loved or cherished
in porcelain veneer or hand-crafted sycamore
crumbles to a close, still the thought remains-
that it is our star-writ fate to dance on.
waking upand imagine my surprisewaking up2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when my insides bloomed
into so many dandelions,
and in a single breath
CradlingI lay my swan heartCradling1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a nest of feather fluff;
sanguine, sweet and soft.
I lay my swan heart
in a frame not strong enough
to keep my love aloft.
the sun isn't a candle.you never did learn that beauty can't be painted on rotting ship hulls. decaying wood will always smell like the ocean's betrayal and the salted funeral salute of gilded words. swirling acrylics will only mask the bleak gray and bled-dry sinkhole of your chest. so, you can sit there and call yourself the queen of your world, the mistress of mystery and empress of lust, but you're taking on water and sinking fast and the imploding sea around you is the last grave your cat-eyes will ever witness. you're sinking like a stone in your hate and deception and the one hand that would have pulled you back is the one you gnawed off at the wrist.the sun isn't a candle.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you see, you had the sun in the palm of your greased talons, the whole reason for expanding lungs stitched between your pores and you discarded it like secondhand news. you never did realize: he's the cause of the spinning axel and the foundation of rome and the song the stars sing to dusk-covered fields. oh, you were just too blind to absorb his light!
dear,when i first met you,dear,1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
terror chilled down
& my heart
began to build
walls over walls
i won’t let them
hurt you, again.
i have a tendency
to get knocked
off my feet
& not know
how to get back up.
i’m still crawling around,
searching for your heart
beats under my bed
& between my tangled
i am pathetic.
you were all crooked,
& nights of forgetting
to take your zoloft.
i didn’t think I would miss that.
i didn’t think I would miss you.
you fell like a meteor
for him, hours after
you demolished me.
& i can’t hope you’re happy
because i’m still patching up
the war zone you left behind.
i taste bile in my throat.
i swallow it back down.
i won’t get sick for you.
StarsI reached for the stars,Stars1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Longing for the strength and brilliance they held.
But my hand came back with shards of glass, streaked with blood.
Jagged pieces dug into my palm, broken fragments of a dream.
For stars are not meant to claimed or owned,
But acknowledged and gazed at from a distance.
Their world is not the same as yours,
And they do not wish to be confined and limited,
By your personal desires.
Black and white There was a man at university, many years ago, who would come outside of the library with a book of poetry. I knew it was poetry because of the way he would pause, as if listening for his name being called, then return to scanning the well-worn pages. I got up the nerve one day to unseat myself from the counter at Starbucks and walk outside to inquire about the nature of his material. "Hello," I said quietly, trying not to disturb him too much. He barely glanced up, however, and continued reading. "Who have you been studying for so long?" This time he did pause, but only long enough to whisper, "Blake." I sat down, intrigued. "The crow wished everything was black," I ventured, waiting for him to respond. He suddenly stood up, and I feared I had offended him. "The Owl," he said, "that everything was white."Black and white1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He walked away, and I turned to find that he had left his Blake collection. I reached for it, and called out, but he did not hear, and it slipped from my grasp. It la
Chalk OutlineA chalk outline waits for meChalk Outline1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes it slips into bed with my shadow
and I can do nothing but roll my eyes
like a mis=abused and weary parent,
but every night when my shadow
merges with the edges of the day's page
and blurs into a dirty midnight orange
I lie in bed and shudder;
without my shadow's protection I feel it,
a chalk outline waits for me.
Of Morgana and Guinevere~ I am a priestess. This I freely confess to you, calling myself by the names you have chosen to give me. Witch. Whore. But in truth, I am but a woman. I used no witchcraft. It is not magic that makes a man desire a woman. It is not magic that makes a child grow in the womb. It is not magic that allows death to take an old man's last breath. These things are natural – the realm of the goddess.Of Morgana and Guinevere10 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
~I am a queen. This I proudly confess to you,calling myself by the names you have chosen to give me. Saint. Angel. But in truth, I am but a woman. I am not so very pure. It is not purity that keeps a woman from her lover's arms for so many long years. It is not purity that makes a head so fit for a crown. It is not purity that prompts a woman to take the child of her mortal enemy to her breast. It is fear – the terrible fear of failure.
I have been falsely named.</b>
~People will say that I seduced my brother. That I bore him a child tainted by evil from the womb. That I wished his deat
EveShe wore a galaxy on her rib-cage,Eve2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
settled high upon her breast,
when I kissed her I could taste it;
the currency of her success.
desiccatei.desiccate1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
you were 22 years in the making,
a sponge without water
since the day they plucked you from the ocean
and left the sea salt to sink into your pores.
I was something too heavy to wade in,
barely able to breathe,
21 years in the making
with floodgates barring my emotions
since the age of four.
At the first sign of droplets,
the salt of you drew me in
and eased the heaviness of my heart.
In your confessions of self-love,
in your tales of embrocation,
I was only ever your liniment;
was a thing to be forgotten from the start.
Once Upon A Time In Greece-Disney (Ariel x Megara)Chapter 1: Shipwrecked?Once Upon A Time In Greece-Disney (Ariel x Megara)2 months ago in Romance More Like This
Long ago, in a time of ancient gods, warlords, and monsters, Megara walked the sandy shores of Greece alone as the sun climbed ever higher in the sky. It was no special day; the gods had smiled on the weather, making for a beautiful day, and the King still sought for a woman to wed his son, the prince, who was nearing his thirtieth year and, dreamer that he was, had turned down every princess and noble that had come to call.
Meg tossed her long auburn hair. She was nowhere near nobility. In town it was whispered that she was a tramp, but if they knew the truth, the rumors wouldn’t be so rampant. Meg had given her life for a man who’d left her for a woman who could better satisfy him in the night, and ever since Hercules had returned to Mount Olympus, she had sworn off men. She was lonely much of the time, but by her own admission, loneliness was much better than heartbreak.
Her modest sandals dangled by their thongs in her fingers, and the warm sand