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Literature
World of Glass
I saw you again today. You couldn’t see me watching you, as usual, but I could see everything you did. And today you were crying.
I wanted to hold you, but didn’t, I wanted to comfort you, but I let those tears fall with no shoulder to catch them. I wanted so bad to reach out and touch you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
That is how I’ve always done it, I have stood by for years, as you weathered the harsh rain and the baking sun. I saw you when you first broke down, I saw you try to salvage what had remained, watched you fail at it and fail again.
And still I did nothing.
Something stands between us, always, something that seems like it will never let you see me, nor me reach you. You and me are from different worlds, you see: I live in the real world, where all this stuff happens, but you, you live in a foreign land, but we are not so different, you and I. For you feel much more than I ever can, and I see much more than you ever could. And yet we cannot
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Literature
The Winner
I am a puzzle, undefined in borders, undeclared in form and with little guide to my finished look. I am talented, smart, funny and loving, yet I suffer from the opposite: depression, doubt and fear.
I give up too easily, even when the game has just begun. I fall too fast, at the lightest of touches. I hide behind a mask to keep myself safe, only to realize I pushed all my treasures away in exchange for loneliness.
I am loved, yet I do not know how to show my love.
I have seen sacrifice for my sake, yet I cannot give it to others, wishing I could is the farthest I ever go.
I have lost so many times I have began thinking that this is all there is to it: I try, I lose, full stop.
I am lost, and don’t want to be found.
I am seeking yet I do not want to find.
I have pride yet I always find a way to tarnish my image, to shame myself.
And here’s the scary part…it’s not over yet. There are mountains I will have to climb; me who has never tried to climb a hill. There wil
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Literature
The New World
All hail the forgotten king, whose name echoes in the empty hallways, whose crown lies rusted and chipped in an empty palace.
All hail the one who forged an empire of strife and schism, whose orders were so absolute even the sky bent to them.
Let the desolate fields once green with crop remember his deeds as they tainted with crimson.
The beasts of the broken land now hunt with quiet sorrow, for the dark has come and the innocent have fled.
Their cities lay empty, stalls dusty under a dark sky, soil fallow for many a year, and not a sign of rain or trickle. The silence cries out loud “Oh how the mighty have fallen”.
All hail the desolate chambers of his majesty's courts where royalty was entertained and peasant spurned; that once burned with torches of coloured flame, now burned out, only charred remains are left.
Feast your eyes on the seat of his empire where he ruled the world with pride, never descending the steep stairs once.
In the mighty throne room a single cloth li
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Literature
Let There Be Flame
Let there be flame, to warm our hearts, to guide our souls and to light the path where there is nothing but darkness.
Let there be song, to make our feet dance and remind us of fun. To call us out of our shells that we may revel in life’s beauty; and to remind us of the child within.
Let there be sorrow, for the love lost, for the past left behind. For without it, there is no knowledge of how far we have come. Without it, there is no weight to what we hold dear, for loss teaches us great lessons.
Let there be art, for expression and voice to be lent to our generation, for the world to remember that it is not about the next buck, or the next appointment. But about what dwells within us, what flows out of us into this canvas of life.
Let there be change, for we were never meant to be the same forever, though discomfort comes with it, there is strength to be found after the process.
Let there be friendship. For no man is an island and no one can do it alone. The top is a lonely plac
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Literature
Resolution 2016
It is the turn of a new year, yet another one in my long arsenal of unused opportunities.
I have made resolution after resolution and never followed through, made promise after promise which have never seen fulfillment. And I am here again, watching the cosmos, thinking whether this time it might be different.
See, of all my errors in life, I believed my greatest was being too weak, being too much of a coward; allowing fear to take root within and mold me to its liking. But I was wrong, it was not weakness, it was not the fear.
My greatest error was giving up on that path that I believed in, it was pushing away what I needed for the sake of what I thought I wanted. It was in trading my birthright for a bowl of soup. I may not have had a choice on the things that happened, but I always had a choice on how I reacted to them.
So this year I will make a different choice, I will not cling to paths that do not work, instead, I will revisit those unfinished bridges, those unclear routes. I wi
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Literature
Madara Uchiha Tribute
If you had asked anyone, they would have told you the same thing; according to how things had been going, this war looked to be won.
One moment they had been on the defensive, and in the next, Naruto had arrived, bringing with him an overwhelming advantage in numbers and power. Over a thousand clones, each equipped with the ability to sense negative intent and all draped in the Kyuubi’s chakra, had been scattered to all the corners of the battlefield.
On arrival, they had picked out the enemy impersonators from among the real ninja like child’s play, and the horrid reanimations had been dealt with one after the other. In a bit over half an hour, the tide of war had begun to change. Of course nobody knew where the real Naruto was, but that was neither here nor there, the fourth Shinobi world war was nearly over.
If you had asked anyone, they would have told you of the joy, the elation when they pictured returning home, as victors and heroes who had stopped the plan of a madm
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Literature
Path of a Dreamer
Fear.
Doubt.
Uncertainty.
These are the emotions I have long felt, and in no more intensity than this very moment.
Someone once said that life is what happens when you’re busy making plans. That it is not what happens to us but how we react to it.
This moment now is the verification of those statements.
Failure is not an easy thing to admit, and it is even a harder thing to accept when it comes to us.
The easy thing is to ignore it and hope it goes away; the hard thing is to forge on and learn something.
Now at this moment in time, I gaze into the far off distance, towards an uncertain future. I have made the choice of the brave: the choice to dust myself off, believe and step out into the limelight; the decision to be judged, to traverse the plains and alien lands of this path less traveled, and seek my own accomplishment; to search for my adventure.
And yet I do not feel so brave.
There is real trepidation in me. What if I fail? What if no one notices me? What if I have only pu
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Literature
A Letter From Me to Me
If I had but one chance to go back in time, to meet my younger self, what would I say?
My dear, I would tell you that it’s okay to dream, no matter the cost, because a dream is something nobody else can take away from you; and only you can achieve your own. You must treasure it, nurture it, guard it, and then you must free it; for you can only achieve it if you allow it to blossom.
I would tell you that you shouldn’t live so cautiously, because we all live on borrowed time, sooner or later, everything we have will vanish, for better or worse, and all that is left are the things we held in our hearts. So live fully alive, go on trips, have fun, and make memories that will last with you until the end.
I would tell you to fight, because it is so much easier to give in once you let them win. You must learn to fight, for ahead of you are struggles that require a fighter’s mind and heart. Not a wild, raging bull, but the champion deep inside you who wants so desperately to
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Literature
Dawn
The night is silent for hours on end, its melodies having faded with the stroke of midnight. The chill is almost alive: a cold and unrelenting numbness that has swept across the hollow plains and the empty streets, right into the ambiance engulfing the sleeping homes.
The world is still, seemingly in a trance that nobody sees. The wind occasionally sways a leaf or two for a moment, but then that moment is gone as fast as it came, leaving the world stagnant once more.
Looks can be deceiving, however, for not all is still. Somewhere in the distance, a bird opens its eyes, shaking its dream-world awake. Its partner does the same, opening up its wings for a long stretch. Somewhere else, yet another is stirring—a gray flecked cat yawns and stands up to flex its slack muscles, the two kittens beside it let out an innate cry almost in unison. Close by, a worm peeks its head out of the soft ground of a well tended garden.
Something is changing.
Slowly, the dark gray night begins to grow
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Literature
The Greatest Risk
It’s her, again. Running through my mind, enchanting my soul. Every gaze seems never ending, every hug is like a warm sweater. Each shared moment leaves me longing for more. It’s always her.
Others do come around though: lost loves of the past and daydreamed prospects of the future. And they are as lovely as the petals of the wild flowers, but all that vanishes after they leave- out of sight, out of mind.
Yet she remains. In my dreams, in my waking moments; she is my muse, my goal. She spurs me on with every conversation…standing beside her, I feel like I can be so much more, like I can touch a piece of destiny at that very moment.
Each moment spent away is as dull as the murky, gray sky of winter. I am the tree, longing for the beautiful summer to return. I am the bird, waiting to soar across the fields again. And she is the sunrise, the sunset, the fields of blooming marigold.
All is not perfect in this unsung dance though, for I have made many missteps, and she has
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Literature
The Lion And The Snake
In the dead of the night, deep within the sleeping city, something remarkable takes place. A single sound is heard cutting across the hollow streets; it’s moving swiftly, its high pitch tracing a beeline in the direction of the underpass.
As it nears the tunnel, another sound makes its presence known from the opposite direction. This one is deep and guttural, echoing power in its wake. The dead streets seem to come alive; there is an air of expectation. Even the shadows hold their breaths. Both sounds are heading towards each other with purpose and in mere seconds, the two sounds meet at the opening of the tunnel.
Slowing to a canter, they turn into the mouth of the five mile stretch and rest beside each other, engines thrumming softly. A few seconds pass as they wait, as if for a cue of some sort. The tunnel is alight with fluorescent light for miles, like a white pathway to another dimension. But it also betrays its age, the walls are old and rugged, not in a decrepit way howev
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Literature
Swordsman fight 2
The warrior had run far enough and as expected, the soldiers had followed him in full sprint. As soon as he ascertained that the first one was only a few steps behind, he stopped suddenly and swung back to face them. They had broken up into around four groups, the fastest being right behind him; if he did this well, it would be over in a matter of minutes. He braced himself for the first soldier; his attack would no doubt be an all-out.
The soldier seemed confused at first as the warrior turned to face him, but quickly recovered his courage, utilizing his speed to bring his sword down with all the might he could muster. In a flash, his sword had struck solid ground-the warrior swiftly evading it to the side. The follow-through was unbelievably fast as blade cut through breastplate; all that the soldier saw, however, was a swishing black cloak that quickly disappeared behind him.
The warrior was methodical, cutting side to side in flowing arcs of swordplay. In a mere few seconds, three
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Literature
Swordsman fight
He stood there in silence, maintaining his swordsman stance as more enemies joined in the circle around him, his deep blue eyes moving from side to side, taking in every surrounding, making note of every movement.
His right hand hovered in anticipation above the hilt of his sheathed sword while his left gripped the scabbard firmly.
He held his breath. He was waiting, waiting for someone to make a move.
Twenty men, give or take a few, those weren't good odds at all.
Slowly and gently, he eased the handle forwards with his left thumb, gradually revealing the beginnings of a well crafted blade that glistened brightly in the moonlight.
As if in return, the soldiers at the front began easing their feet forwards. He had to be ready, if they closed the gap on him, it would be dangerous.
Suddenly, a soldier shot out of the circle towards him, and as if on cue, the whole army followed, roaring in a cry of battle.
There was no time to be surprised; he immediately bolted towards one end of the ci
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Literature
the storm
It was a cold, dark evening. Lightning flashed across the sky in dazzling streaks while thunder cracked amidst the clouds above, carrying with it the resounding sound of rage as it skipped from cloud to cloud.
The red rays of the setting sun could no longer be seen, for the blackness of the nimbus clouds had swallowed them whole; and whatever light was still visible they were slowly rubbing away, reaching out their grey tentacles like a parasite, like an infection.
Slowly but surely, it was forming. First it was a simple shifting-just a little-and then it began. A small swirling had formed among the clouds, like a giant's mouth, sucking in the clouds one by one, growing bigger with every passing second. Pretty soon, the turmoil had spread out and the clouds seemed to be uncontrollably drawn to that one spot, swirling round and round before they plunged within it.
The city below had no idea what was brewing, its citizens simply looked up in mild annoyance as they began hurrying towards
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Literature
the last moment
I stand here in stagnant silence, looking down at where she lays, where i watched them seal the one I love from me.
There are no words of man capable of grasping what I feel. Is it anger? Hatred? Regret? Or is it the void sorrow that comes from loss?
I watched her leave without saying goodbye. She had promised to always be by my side, but then she turned around and broke that promise, that night was the coldest night of all.
And hence here I stand, gazing down at her, and all I can think is this: "why was it not me?"
But whether I regret or not, of one thing I'm sure. We will be together always, in the depths of our hearts.
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Literature
the haunted house of boon
It stood there among the ruins and black ashes,  looming over the cul-de-sac like a dark, ominous cloud. At the corner of may street and 13th avenue, the haunted house of Boon.
Many theories had come up about its origins but in the end it was decided that a gruesome murder must have taken place there, the murder that had somehow led to the compound and two houses on either side of it being razed to the ground in a mysterious fire . That was five yeas ago, and since then, it had stood there among the haunting memories of the past.
Compared to the other houses that had been built there, it stuck out like a sore thumb: with a rusted metal gate that creaked every time the wind blew, black stumps and rotting trees, and the dried up vines that had once climbed all over the the walls and the roof; the house stirred up wild imaginations. Even the children had stopped playing around it, if a ball went in by accident, it was as good as gone.
With charred ground and doors and windows th
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steve ndirangu
Artist | Student | Varied
Kenya
University Student with a big dream of becoming a professional writer, Author and Musician...watch this space
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PapiTrooper Featured By Owner Sep 13, 2018  Hobbyist Filmographer
Thanks for the watch !
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JustAnother-Me Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2017
Thanks for the watch!  It's really appreciated!
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cradleframe Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2017  Student General Artist
welcome
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Thank you so much for all the faves, most appreciated.
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cradleframe Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2017  Student General Artist
you're very welcome
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Thanks so much for the fave and watch!  :)
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cradleframe Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2017  Student General Artist
you're welcome
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JZLobo Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you kindly for the watch!
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cradleframe Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2017  Student General Artist
welcome
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ThierryCravatte Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you very much for adding me to your watch list ! I really appreciate your interest for my work !
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