Tyrion "If there are gods,Tyrion3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
then they are cruel"
Tyrion Lannister told me.
"Inspiration is crueler,"
I answered him,
"dragging your heart from your chest,
with stories of love,
happiness, health and laughter,
sews it up roughtly,
puts it back in,
and leave you alone with the pain -
the pain to expose
a part of your soul
for everyone's entertainment -
now this, my friend,
you can't understand,
you'll just have to accept it."
Then Lannister smiled,
and leaned on the table,
and gave me that awkward look,
and asked me "Dear Den,
I do understand -
who do you think made inspiration?"
Sunday Morning (a LeviHan drabble) It was around four in the morning. Darkness enveloped the confines of the small Spartan room and not a single ray of sunlight came pouring from the window. The hustle and bustle usually heard during the day in the barracks was replaced by an eerie silence, surprising for what was the makeshift home for over a hundred soldiers. Hardly anyone was up and about at this dark and solitary hour, yet, for a certain corporal, this was the man's regular time to wake up. Stretching his arms languidly, Corporal Levi, humanity's strongest soldier, sat up from his bed and yawned.Sunday Morning (a LeviHan drabble)2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Right about now, Levi would usually begin his morning routine. Starting with stretching, he would begin practicing some military and exercise drills. Afterwards, the corporal would bathe, change clothes, eat breakfast, and then proceed to do his paperwork. He would have lunch at exactly 12:30, then finish up the remaining files and reports. Later, when the man had completed all tha
Was That The Boogeyman?Jonathan slumped in his old armchair, the stub of a cigarette held lazily between his lips like a comfortable good-knight kiss. His eyes were almost closed as he gazed into the fireplace in his study. He wasn't asleep yet, but he would be soon, and he knew it. He blinked a few times, half-heartedly trying to ward off slumber as a few ashes fell from his cigarette and onto the worn leather. He didn't mind.Was That The Boogeyman?3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
There was a sudden cold draft, the fire flickered, and he closed his eyes. He stiffened slightly, his mouth pursing around the cigarette stub, a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows deepening as he frowned slightly.
The windows creaked as they opened, as though the glass itself were moaning in pain. The drapes rustled and a heavy presence entered the room, like a small pebble dropped in water. It barely sent out ripples, but they were ripples nonetheless.
"Hello, Batman," Jonathan murmured.
"Crane." His voice was less frightening than Jonathan remembered itit sounded less angry and
Make Unto the Lord a Joyful NoiseWe hid behind the hymnals.Make Unto the Lord a Joyful Noise2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When the organ chords clung
Like condensation on the gospel,
We’d wait for the same wavering keen,
Impossible to place as it
rose from the bowels of the pews.
Somewhere among the chrysanthemum bouquet
came the spiderweb thrum of pitchless joy
that broke through our Protestant stiffness.
We watched lips,
the wrinkled movement of apricot cheeks,
anything that could telegraph the howling undertow
accompanying “The Old Rugged Cross”
up to its crag on Calvary.
When hum was absent one Sunday,
we mourned the empty dullness
left by the absence of each wavering sharp,
hanging from the ceiling like a dun chandelier.
I imagine that Jesus has more patience than we,
and gently put down his pitch pipe
to welcome her.
Not a RogueHe hadn't planned to be running for his life. You just can't find good help these daysNot a Rogue3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Jonathan Crane dashed through the various dark alleys, sirens not too far behind. Once he gets back to the hideout, that lackey is dead what was that?
Jon froze and listened again. Crying
"C'mere darling, don't want you to get hurt, do we?"
Jon's eyes narrowed as he crept closer to the alley, keeping in the shadows.
The man was big, much bigger than Jon. The girl must've been about 6 or 7. There was blood on her sunflower yellow dress. Jon crept closer still, already preparing his fear toxin. The man held tight the girl's wrist and reached for her dress. She cried and tried to twist away again. The man laughed. But then Scarecrow was upon him and he screamed.
Jon grabbed the man by the hair and pulled him away from the girl. The girl looked up at him with horror as the man continued to writhe and scream behind him. Jon reached towards her, but she screamed and backed away
PetrichorFor the first time in his life, Jonathan Crane wished he had a more extensive knowledge of the inner machinations of automobiles. His car was old, and the engine was making strange noises, and it wobbled slightly as he drove; although that may have been more due to the mud on the dirt road than anything. It always rained at the worst times here.Well, not that there were good times in Gotham, but it always rained when he had things that needed to be done.Petrichor3 years ago in Romance More Like This
The rhythmic, soft thump of windshield wipers over the muted drone of rain on the car was calming him against his will. He squeezed the steering wheel intermittently, every once in a while slowing down and easing closer to the side of the road. Damn headlights didn't work for shit, either. Or maybe it was just the pollution in the air. Either way, he'd been driving for at least five minutes and he hadn't found--
Scratch that. There she was.
She was sitting in a heap slightly off the road. Her pale skin and red hair made him think of a
Because He Cares (Intimidate Mode) "Pity there's only one of you."Because He Cares (Intimidate Mode)3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Jonathan glanced around swiftly as he and the mobsters were surrounded by the unseen Batmen. He ducked as the gunfire started, dodging behind the van he'd driven in with and muttering "That's not him!" to himself in frustration. Really, these people were idiots. The Batman never used guns.
One of the imposters pressed a gun to Jonathan's spine and the burlap man whirled around, shoving his fist into the armored vigilante's face and spraying fear toxin everywhere. The fake Batman shrieked and fell to the ground.
All of a sudden there was the sound of stone crumbling and metal against metal, and Jonathan looked up to see the hulking black muscle car that was the Batmobile astride a pile of rubble, a few of the mobster's million-dollar rides pancaked beneath it.
Zutara Week 2011: HistoryZutara Week 2011: History4 years ago in Romance More Like This
Day 2: History
Lace fans. Silk ribbons.
Velvet and ermine.
Chains of pearls.
Love tokens. Secret notes. Dedicated poems.
Dances. Jousts. Masquerades.
Private meetings in secret.
All the splendours of court.
The touch of a hand. The smile on gentle lips.
The closeness during a dance.
"Katara, you are to be betrothed."
Jewelled masks. Intricate gowns.
Gold goblets. Silver platters.
The honour of the first dance.
A Midsummer night.
A delighted smile. A silent proclamation.
"I claim you as mine."
Secrets in whispers. A private confession.
Thrill in his eyes. Lurch in her heart.
Realization dawns. Reality returns.
"My hand is taken..."
A shattering truth. A disappointing moment.
The loss of what would have been true love.
"...but you have my heart."
Departure in sorrow. In heartbreak.
Duty before emotion.
The curse of nobility.
"I present to you my daughter, Ka
Dear young soldierYou pulled the trigger,Dear young soldier3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Saved all those lives.
You carried your comrade,
Across the enemy lines.
Scarred and broken, armless and scared.
You led them to Heaven's paradise.
Brave young soldier tell me why,
Why oh why did you tie that noose?
Did not home smell so clean and safe
Once you rested between stainless sheets?
Was the taste of her welcome home kiss not enough?
Or the comfort of hot coffee satisfying?
Were these memories of bloodied battles-
so strong that you could no longer stand it?
That the only freedom that you fought for,
Spoke to you in the strands of this rope?
Were the reasons you fought blinded now?
By the steadfast flashbacks of dying friends?
You paid enough to become a scarred man-
To hang yourself to rid your mind of forever's pain.
You are woman. You are man.You are woman,You are woman. You are man.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so be kind,
all in your own way.
You are man
so be strong,
Please, Push me AwayI'm starting to n-e-e-d you,Please, Push me Away4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm starting to depend on you.
& I'm starting to want you way more then I already do.
From my past, I know that this feeling is
& All that's going to come out of this is b/r-ok/e-n hearts and salty tears,
I'm going to hurt you,
To The Girl I Used To BeDear Teen Me,To The Girl I Used To Be1 year ago in Letters More Like This
It is end of 2012 and you are almost twenty-five years old now. I know that's hard to believe, but those are the facts of life. We age and, if we're lucky, we grow up too. You've grown up a great deal in the eight years that stand between who you are now and your twenty-four year-old self, who is writing this letter. Part of it is due to the lessons you learned when you were that innocent teen who gave her heart to everyone who she thought deserved it (even if she later found out that they didn't). They were hard lessons to learn— lessons about being loyal to people who were not loyal to you and vice versa. Looking back, I'd honestly say that high school— the life you are living now— was the hardest and most terrible time I've ever experienced. Some would say that that's strange to say that when you compare it with deaths in the family, but when I think of the thing that has tormented me the most about the past, it isn't loss. It's high school, so I thin
SimplicityWhy can't anything ever just beSimplicity4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I've been running for so, so long,
And I'm so drained,
I don't know if I'm strong enough for this anymore.
If it is love that sets us free,
Then why do I feel as if my soul is bound?
Everything was so...
How could something that felt so right,
I've been turning in circles for months now.
I'm breaking down,
Splitting at the seams.
I can't do this anymore.
I can't live in hope,
Clinging to my desire to hold you again.
I have a life, and I'm going to live it.
No more tears.
My Argument for Same Sex MarriageSame-sex marriage is a polarized issue that many Americans fear will result in economic, legal, and social repercussions. Gay Marriage has an extensive history in cultures around the world beginning in ancient times and still causes controversy today. However, there is much research showing the long and short term benefits gay marriage has on society. Many people are still uninformed about the history, psychology and sociological effects of one of the greatest debates in modern history.My Argument for Same Sex Marriage3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Same-sex marriage has its roots in the very beginning of recorded civilization, beginning with Africa. Within African tribal society, barren women would often take other women to be their brides. These 'female husbands' were granted the full rights of a male husband, including damages should the wife share sexual intimacy outside of the marriage. In Egyptian and Mesopotamian cultures, homosexual marriages were recognized as law; proof of this can be
Would you?If I loved you for the longest and the spark faded, would you be angry?Would you?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
If I left, would you chase me?
If I started to love someone else, would you be jealous?
If I still loved you, would you give me a chance?
If I cried, would you comfort me?
If I disappeared, would you search the Earth for me?
If things went wrong, would you leave me forever?
If I showed you my true self, would you love me all the same?
If one day this all ended, would you want it to start again?
My Samurai, PrologueMy SamuraiMy Samurai, Prologue4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The cherry blossom trees bloomed like each year. Petals flying all over the place, scattering everywhere. However, these cherry blossom trees were different from almost all. They were of all the colors. They look so gorgeous those petals flying in this garden. They move with such grace and nature. They fly wherever the wind leads them.
I wish I could be one of those cherry blossoms that I see now. I wish I could leave here and see where life leads me. To have friends, who want to be with me. That people recognize me for who I am, not for my dad or mother. To live the present, and wait for tomorrow to be better than today.
I wish so many things, but they are all dreams. Just silly dreams, dreams like anybody else.
Many people will love to live my life, but I personally will love to live theirs. They are free; they choose what they want to do. Instead, I have to live under the expectations of everyone. I am one of the most important people in this country, not because
MAI LITEL PONEMAI LITEL PONEMAI LITEL PONE1 year ago in Romance More Like This
MAI LITEL PONE
MAI LITEL PONE
I USD TO WUNDRE WUT FRENSHUP CULD BE
MAI LITEL PONE
UTIL U AL SHARD DIS MAGC WIT ME
LAUTS OF FUN
A BOOTIFUL HART FAITFUL AN STROG
ITS AN EESY THNG
AND MAGC MAKS IT AL COMPLT
MAH LITEL PONE
AND TO U AL AR MY VARY BES FREEEEEENDDDDDDSSS
Sanic RPG 2
I Think LoveA quaint little smileI Think Love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is all it takes
To make my heart soar
A cute little giggle
Is all it takes
To make me adore
You don't know my feelings
You probably never will
I'm weak and good at hiding
I think I love you but still
I will never come out and say it
No matter how bad I want to tell
You will never know my feelings
This puts my heart through hell
And for this I am truly sorry
Epilogue, Les Miz"Papa, please!" Cosette sobbed. "You mustn't you cannot please!"Epilogue, Les Miz5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Cosette, my child my " Jean Valjean paused, struggling to catch his breath. His eyes filled with tears, though he couldn't determine the origin of his weeping. Perhaps it was fear of death, perhaps mourning for Cosette. He knew she wasn't dying, but oh, God, he was losing her.
'But maybe,' he thought to himself, 'maybe she remembers me. Maybe Fantine will recognise me.'
Finally able to breathe somewhat enough to speak, he continued. "My dearest Cosette the valise the valise bring me the valise."
"Of course, Papa!" she exclaimed. "Marius, watch him."
Lifting her skirts from the ground, she scurried off to obey her father, leaving him with her husband. The two shared a silent look, both knowing how much Cosette's happiness was worth to them.
Marius was the first to speak. "Monsieur, I should apologise "
"No," Jean Valjean interjected, lifting his withered hand
The JungleThey say that lions are the bravest animalThe Jungle2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But that is far from true
It’s not hard to be the bigger man
When the biggest man is you
The jungle is a scary place
Huge and cramped and wet and cold
And when the leaves blot out the sun
It’s harder to be bold
Lions are, of course, the king
Tigers, wolves, and bears as well
But we can’t forget the smaller things
That have to walk through Hell
It takes no courage, none at all,
To strut across the path
But for animals of smaller size
To stumble is to fall
The raven is not quite so brave
Maybe not the best example
But they assuredly are more mature
And their ego is less ample
No, the bravest animal by far
Is the teensy tiny mouse
The itsy bitsy ball of fluff
That lives under your house
For they must sprint a hundred steps
And sneak a thousand more
Every day and every night
To avoid the carnivores
And though they may tremble with fright
And gnaw their little paws
They can conquer anything
With other mice alike
The Bracelet - Wicked fanfic"Come in."The Bracelet - Wicked fanfic9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Fiyero opened the door at the sound of Elphaba's voice. He had never actually set foot inside the dorm room before – when he came to pick Galinda up for a date, she'd usually hurry to the door to meet him. He couldn't help smiling to himself. What secrets would he learn about her? Was she messy? Did she have embarrassing pictures on her walls?
There was nothing messy at all about the room, however. Galinda's side was neat, her extensive wardrobe lined up neatly in her closet, her shoes perfectly straight, and her pink, frilly bed made. Elphaba's side appeared even neater, but that was only because there wasn't much there – besides the book-lined shelves, she only had a few simple dresses.
Elphaba was sitting on her bed, absorbed in a book. She looked especially green in the lamp from her bedside table, and she didn't even honor him with a look to see who he was. "Galinda's not