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Zauberspiegel by DerFaulePoet, literature
Zauberspiegel
Prinzessin, fürchtest du zu vergehen? Denn klar und deutlich kann ich sehen, dass du vor dem Leben fliehst bis du im Spiegel siehst, dass dir die Schönheit, die du so bitter vermisst, schon unwiederbringlich entglitten ist; und dein Wahn wird immer wilder, du hörst schon meine Stimme aus dem Silber. Ich bin gebettet auf Mörtel und Stein und tauche deine warme, weiche Haut in meinen Schein. Prinzessin, was sollen die Tränen? Sie fallen zwischen deinen goldenen Strähnen. So fragst du mich: Spieglein, wo wird meine Liebe sein? Echte Liebe gibt’s an keinem Ort, denn Liebe ist ein leeres Wort. Meine Worte klingen bitter, stechen wie Spiegelsplitter, doch verzagen musst du nicht, viel wertvoller als Liebe sind Ehre und Pflicht. Spieglein, warum bin ich nicht ewig jung geblieben? In Leid kann niemals echte Schönheit liegen. Habe den Mut, deine Schönheit geschehen zu lassen, denn echte Schönheit wird niemals verblassen. Mich hindert nichts daran, mein Wort zu ehren, ich bin
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Peaceful Bliss by EverlastingBroken, literature
Peaceful Bliss
Cold, cool, air, Slipping through window, That's wide open and still. Fresh scent of Fall, Leaves changing colors, On trees outside. Seasons change. Summer goes away. Finally. The cold air is here to stay. Sitting against chair... Lean back, Press barefeet on desk, To knees. Long hair fall against shoulders. Breathing In. Breathing Out. Only Silence of Nature. Breathing In. Breathing Out. Smile moves onto lips, Eyes soften, Sipping coffee gently. Peaceful. Happy. Giggle. Bubbly tingling in toes, Feeling run up skin. Ah! Cold weather, Makes the heartbeat, Stir that same feeling inside, Calms the body, Brings a smile to face, A much-needed hug to body. Trapped into a bliss. Push against chair more, Relaxation at it's finest. Shut eyes, Feel breeze move against skin, Then against hair, That blows back. I love it. I absolutely love it. Thank you, Fall and Winter. You make me happy. I love you.
Planting by Ag-Cat, literature
Planting
A tree falls down in the forest. Its death is not a surprise, and one day its friends would follow it, losing their struggles to the Choking and the Hollow, but for now, they hold on; and for now, they watch as sunlight shone through the gap in the canopy, setting the stage for the dead one’s funeral. A tree funeral is a long affair, conducted by fungi and attended by woodlice, beetles and many other creatures. Tiny creatures that seem to rise, fall then disappear in an instant when the trees aren’t paying attention. Then again, most creatures are too short-lived and fast to the trees. The springtails and earthworms arrive last, feasting on what left of the tree’s corpse before it becomes one with the soil. The soil that would now makes a perfect nursery. There is a moment of stillness, as if the trees are holding their breath. Then there, emerging from the soil, the green shoots of the young ones. So young that time still feel fast to them. The trees knew that most of them won’t
