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Wild Soul by Lorian-AinDal, literature
The dark forest closes over me, chill air filling my senses with a scent of pines and glamourous mystery. I know how mystery feels. It's the scent of darkness, enchanted and tempting, for all who embrace the night. For all who are not afraid to tread the unatended paths. I dwell deeper into woody nightshade, my eyes gleaming in the shadows. My memories swirl, ravenous and mourning. You told me that woods were you sacred home. That your soul yearned for nature, it called you, with a silent but urgent voice. For me, every tree has your name engraved on the bark, every bough whispers your name. You were a wild creature, a spark of fire in the darkness. A wolf soul, who in his mind doesn't know boundaries set by this unforgiving world. I see you in these woods, free, untamed, a soul that never was chained by painful reality. A spirit who was tempted by mystery and allure of the night. A heart which was beating for the wilds, which resonated with mine on mystical level - a winter fae
how many ropes? by Emmaessence, literature
how many ropes?
How many strings must you cut, how many ropes? Until you come to understand they are umbilical connects to the source puppet mother! Marionette-Mary-Antoinette birth chamber chains no guillotine can break we can glean this fact eternal slaves no pardon, no escape Parasites and tapeworms wriggling and playing like broken records follicles that just won’t stop growing when shredded it’s a sad fact not everybody gets out serfs up guys are we’re a society that’s caught a disease the strings of slavery the colonial ties twisting inside the colon left over heads of state with a habit of continuing on not quite friendly methods To say other would be outright lies…