Endless Night - Second VersionEndless Night - Second Version11 years ago in Horror More Like This
Night had fallen across the sands, and her footsteps were growing slower by the moment.
Still, she trod onward, the goal of her heart ever-present, an entity of its own within her spirit. She knew it lay not far ahead now; her week-long journey was nearly complete.
Does it await me, still, she asked herself, and, expecting no answer, recieved none. She knew she would find out soon the truth of the matter. For good or ill, she was in it until the end, and was glad of it.
An endless eternity, it seemed, had passed since her feet had last traced their way here. The winds had been blowing that time; though they were calm at the moment, she knew they could start again at any given time. This barren waste knew no rules but its own, and those it followed only grudgingly.
Days upon days, time upon time... passing slowly while the air she breathed became blighted with the desire she knew would be coming. The need she would
iii.iii.10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
, and he's
and that night
me as lightning
(i guess you
they were resting
and it hit
my big, blue eyes
a curse, an examinationwhat if I told youa curse, an examination9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I was attempting to cure
but all I take is time
and to tell the truth
it's mostly yours
somewhere in the sounds of silence
I thought I heard you whisper
"I was born to be this mirror
and you've been holding the wrong hands
so let's make these memories
quick and quiet
sometimes my heart skips in the dark
that's why you smile"
not to insinuate I overheard
the words you meant to speak
every syllable sounded so perfect
these sparks mean something
maybe it's just a bad connection
The RoomThe room was small, built in the shape of a sphere. The walls, floor and ceiling were all painted a bright, blinding white, creating a cold and unfeeling setting. There was no visible discrepancy to the sphere's shape. There was nothing else in the room, and it was kept lit by an unidentifiable source of light. There were no windows, and the only door that led outside blended in seamlessly with the walls. There was no way to tell left from right, front from back. And in the middle of the sphere sat a man.The Room11 years ago in Horror More Like This
His raven black hair was long, dirty and fell to his shoulders in matted locks. He wore a plain white shirt, or at least a shirt that had once been white. Now it had been stained a dull brown-red by blood. He wore a pair of khaki trousers, torn and ripped almost to shreds, and his feet were bare. His nails were long, untrimmed and sharp. His arms were cuffed firmly behind his back, and no matter what he tried they would not come free. His eyes fixed themselves on the section of the sp
nananananana10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a wallpaper once told me
about a trick
of predicting future
with splashes of soup
on the apron.
i then rolled him
into a tube
and we want
to a bar.
he only drank bloody marries
i had a plate of broth.
he said: "quite striking!"
i drank a spoonful
of saliva to that.
i sometimes call him up
late at night
and we talk.
The kidnappingHe'd put the forty-watt bulb in deliberately. Its dull glow filtered through layered fumes and added just the right touch of atmosphere.The kidnapping11 years ago in Humor More Like This
Three thousand bloody words.
He swore and sucked hard on the spindly, hand-rolled cigarette. The raw, bitter kick at the back of his throat nearly made him choke and he spluttered, swallowing the reflex and the smoke and holding his breath until red lights danced in front of his eyes.
In the corner the girl cowered, limbs crunched tightly against torso, her weeping muffled.
The cigarette dropped into last night's coffee mug with a faint hiss. Grunting heavily, he reached around the desk, fumbled another paper and carefully pinched a tiny wad of tobacco.
Not much left. Damn.
Two of the joss sticks had gone out. He relit them with his lighter, savouring the burnt sandalwood that thickened the atmosphere. The laptop's shine was muted, but the nearly blank white page was beginning to be irritating. Licking parched lips, he checked the word count. 166 Word
IntheNameOfLove-TaintedMelodyIntheNameOfLove-TaintedMelody10 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
My younger brother is the one who inspired this essay. A few days ago my family and I were sitting around having dinner when politics came up. My family is very conservative; sometimes they push my buttons for fun because they know I tend to be more liberal. My mom and her husband often laugh at things on the news when they hear about things being done by "target groups". My brother, who's only 12, said to them "You shouldn't make fun of people, it's not nice. Except gay people, you can make fun of gay people,". When I questioned him as to while only gay people he simple said, "Because they're gay,".
The second thing that inspired me to write this was watching the move "The Laramie Project". I'm pretty sure I cried through the whole thing. Matthew Shepherd had to die in order to open people's minds. Isn't being who you are the biggest freedom? Have the right to express yourself, to create and change. Love was the best thing we
q: how? a: romantic.if ever a bit discouragedq: how? a: romantic.9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we're all made with worlds inside
though often unavoidable
need not be unenjoyable
it's a matter-of-fact fiction:
wrapped up in
wrapped up in
how long can you
stay a stranger
when it all adds up
to two too tired of alone
and everything entailed
with haunting themes recurring
where our shouts should be
WasteWaste9 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Call me Anna, she says, hoping they'll get the vague reference, but they never do, mainly because it's too obtuse, and partly because nobody really reads Moby Dick these days.
But it matters not, nothing ever does. She wears her hair swept up and her mind swept away. There are the remains of a meal speckled upon her collar and down the front of her top, but people make sure not to comment. It wouldn't be right, but that's for later.
First, call her Anna. Heroines always had such exciting names, she mourned, drowning in jealousy that she instantly hated them all. She embraced the plain out of spite, and insisted that people called her by her boring middle name, started work as a librarian, and married a man who was the human embodiment of beige.
He didn't stand out anymore than she did. He wasn't tall and wasn't short, wore glasses in the least imposing way and sometimes spoke too quietly. He hated repeating himself, so told people to forget he said anything at all if they hadn't heard
AfterlifeAfterlife11 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
A desert road.
A body lies on the road. SAM is sitting on it. It is his corpse. He gets up. Looks at the body, and looks at himself. He feels himself for fat. He goes stage LEFT. As he reaches the end, he stops. He then goes stage RIGHT. He stops. He looks out toward the audience. He goes upstage. He goes downstage. Finally, he glumly takes a seat on his body again and sighs heavily with his chin in both hands, elbows on his knees. He stares at the ground and takes no notice of his surroundings.
Enter CHARON, stage RIGHT. He is wearing simple brown robes and a walking staff. Middle-aged and balding. He drags his feet, hunched over and head down, like someone who has been on his feet for a long time. Noticing SAM, he straightens himself. He takes a scrol
dead horsedead horse11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A formidable host
ride swiftly now
to where know one knows,
convicted of worse
these tears tell no lies
these fears dont surprise
waiting for sunrise
dreading blue skies
tormenting my life
just skip to my line
jump to where i define
... dead horse
3hree chords and the truth3hree chords and the truth11 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
A singer once sang
Of a yellow-haired girl
In a flower-print dress
With a smile like a pearl
The words have since faded
Long gone from the air
With only a memory
Of the love that they shared
But the tune still rings on
In the chords of the truth
And my fingers still worship
The love that they knew.
DespairingDespairing11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You've told me no tales, and I've told you no lies
And yet I am the one that still sits here, and cries
Marking the time as the future is stumbling
I despair once again at my life now crumbling
Sorrow runs deep and my tears will stain far
I beg for an answer to the who that we are
Shifting and aimless, with no hope I can keep
I bang against this wall, unbreakable and steep
The scars from the tears, my face they do mar
Cracks in my sanity mark a door standing ajar
Broken and bent, through these shadows I'll creep
The words that you spoke made a rift that's too deep
I can think of your smile, and a part of me sighs
But as soon as my joy is beginning, it dies
What now haunts me, your face it is wearing
For you have becme the crux of my despairing
The Importance of Being FrankThe Importance of Being Frank10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The Importance Of Being Frank
At the end of this story, a Frenchman will be eaten by African driver ants.
* * *
Silvie closed the stall door behind her; she closed it timidly, with an empty expression on her face. Her hand shook. She paused for a moment, her mouth half open, her lip curled upward, and a frown on her forehead.
Then she walked over to the wash basins.
A fly buzzed between her and the mirror. She turned on the faucet, filled her cupped hands with water, and splashed it on her face. She looked at the stall's reflection in the mirror, closed her eyes, and slapped herself.
Let us slow down to take in the sights. At the exact moment Silvie's hand hits her cheek, everyth
Angel Down -- JDAAngel Down -- JDA11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Dust filled skies coat an October's dusk
A hazy orange moon rises to scare and fright
Withering cobs lay within forgotten husks
Harvest-time abandoned with the coming night
Withering trees outcast a taste of a world grown chill
The tumbled leaves of amber decay on the ground
Oppressive scents of the past on the wind not still
And upon it there begins a loud, keening sound
Darkness emerges fearlessly as the sun finally falls
And the shapes of a black force begins to take wing
Noble and pauper, together. clutching within their walls
As a many-voiced chorus can now be heard to sing
"The evil in your hearts lets us hold sway
We'll take you by night and feed in the day
Poor as a mouse, or wear a kings crown
For we are the lice within angel down"
Black wings beat lazily in the heights far above
The hell-spawn creatures come single or by two
Teeth, growing stained, bring an era without love
And with each new sunfall it is begun anew
Time may pass and the torment come to an end
Peace may come
A Perfect MatchA Perfect Match11 years ago in Horror More Like This
"But my mommy says that I shouldn't play with you," the boy said.
"It's okay," it said. "She would not have left you with me, if she had."
"I don't know," said the boy again. "It kinda scares me."
"Don't be afraid," it said. "I won't hurt you."
The boy reached out to touch it, and brought his hand back just before contact.
"What's wrong?" it asked.
The boy frowned. "You promise it will be okay?"
A deep sigh issued from it. "Yes, it will be just fine."
The boy reached out again, and touched it lightly, before finally grasping it firmly and stroking it hard.
Frightened again, the boy dropped it.
It fell to the floor with a laugh, and said,
Came The AngelsCame The Angels11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Came the angels of tainted perfection
To line our hearts with ammunition
Adorned with twisted dreams of peace
To quell the fire of rapt ambition
Came the angels of newborn damnation
Fresh from the womb of brutal demise
Appeased with misfortune and vengeful souls
To gnaw our skin and gauge our eyes
And still, and still, the fires raged,
As victims fell to pre-dug graves.
Exiled creatures fresh from hell
Wished our shattered bodies well
And still, the roses failed to bloom
Crown with thorns, my blood consumed
Ebony blood runs cold as ice
Let loose with heartfelt sacrifice…
:.Hopeless.::.Hopeless.:11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Insecurity covered with careful dreams,
she's not as confident as she seems.
She looks at night and wonders why,
she yearns hello
but hears goodbye.
Through tears she manages to say she loves,
acts sick of hurt but hasn't had enough.
Hollow inside she wants a heart,
begging to hope
but lost the start.
Throws life away for rough, sugar nights
explores love brawls without knowing to fight.
Hopeless, she knows, but doesn't care
searching for beauty
but is still too bare.
Disgust bubbles and boils inside her veins
tries to be cool, but cant remain sane
Doesn't give up, she hates logical
searching for faith
but none is possible.
Thinks maybe someday she'll depart from pain
nothing to lose, even less to gain.
Blinded she is but wont let go,
she has no chance
...but doesn't know.
-Orison--Orison-11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Let there be everlasting light
and as the breath left
her body she was bathed
in warm sunlight
filtering through the
golden canopy above.
Let there be eternal music
and was met with the
fluttering of the butterflies,
the gentle whispering
of the summer breeze and
the melody of a hummingbird.
Let there be enduring peace
and before her very eyes
vines grew up over the trees
without competition, then
a ladybug sat beside her
without fear of being crushed.
Let there be unearthly beauty
and beside her bare feet sat
an exquisite and precious gift –
a pretty child with laughing
eyes and long golden hair…
as the dusty pink gown
swirled around slender legs
and her bare toes danced
through the trickling stream,
she finally understood.
Wings spread, eyes open,
looking upwards as the
flowers fell she knew
she was truly blessed in
the simple joys of life…
Dark HeartDark Heart11 years ago in Horror More Like This
I see her there, against the wall. My dark one, my lifeblood. She does not see me; I don't want her to. Not yet, at least.
She stands alone, set apart and adrift in this sea of humans, swimming through the smoke that fills the room. Loud music could be heard, punching from the massive speakers lined up on all sides. Over them the babble of the people. Through all the noise, however, I can hear her heart beating, pounding in her chest.
She is beautiful, long hair flowing gracefully across her face, though I can see a scar playing over her cheek. I wonder what must have happened to cause it, then file it away, perhaps to pull it out later for closer inspection. For now, there are other things I need.
I drift closer, feeling a longing in me as I get nearer. Though I walk in the open, she still does not