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Outlaws. Part I
“Faster, faster!” the boy blurted as he ran barefoot downhill, vaulting over rocks and fallen branches upon the leaf-coated slope. A brown bear was chasing after him. “Faster, man!”
But the man at his side was panting heavily. He was ten steps behind the boy, his knee-high boots barely dodging the obstacles in their path, weary under the weight of the sack he was carrying on one shoulder.
“Drop it, man, let it go,” the boy prompted, his black brow frowning.
But the man's grip tightened upon the mouth of the sack instead, and his head shook in dismissal. At the foot of the hill he stopped, crouching with his hands propped against his knees to draw breath. He breathed in and out a few times, ran a hand over his long thick moustache in a nervous overwrought gesture and, then, as if reaching a conclusion, he rushed to open his sack. He took out a fine flintlock musket of Austrian making, leaving the bag o
To all the men who didn't see me for what I was
Tornadoes never make good shelters -
but he doesn't know that.
So he tries to find
refuge inside of me,
he tries to build a home
out of my bitten bones
with a porch swing
made of whatever
someone forgot to take back.
He wants me to be a safe place
to hide away
from a troublesome summer,
but I am not made of light,
and I am not made of beginnings -
everything about me
is a never-ending ending.
Tornadoes never make good shelters -
and he will soon know that.
You see and yet don't understand,
A stranger I am though a friend,
But if you'd only listen I will share -
For in these lines is all of me -
The love, the pride, the memory,
The one belief I have, oh, ave Ea....
Ave Ea.... Ave Ea....
They say it's hard to be alone
With none to call your kin and own
And that's the kind of loneliness I wear,
But what I know within my heart,
Which holds and tears me apart
's that I belong to you, oh, ave Ea....
Ave Ea.... Ave Ea....
When I was lost you showed the way,
You were my pillar through the grey
For you were always true and kind and fair -
Your strength would shine in me inside,
Into my life you brought the Light -
That's why I call your name, oh, ave Ea....
Ave Ea.... Ave Ea....
You taught me how the Truth to seek,
To not give in and to be free -
No god except myself is ever there -
For all your words in me inspire
Within me burns eternal Fire -
This Fire, it is you, oh, ave Ea....
Ave Ea.... Ave Ea....
Strah je nazočan,
vazda uzbunu kroji.
I laže, vara
smutljivac bez časti.
A ne zna jadan,
da neko noći broji,
kad će samoća
u dvojinu srasti.
Bol ne jenjava,
ali radost pušta korijen.
I već predosjećam
pečat dječijih lica.
oko nas povijen,
stišće nas kosmos
u igrokaz sitnica.
Mature contentWelcome to the internet kolosos666 2 5 VooDoo For AKira1189 4 3
na more na jezero na vodu neku ma kakvu plavnu
ne plavu jer ni nebo nije plavo -
plava je boja za pesnike
- na jezero na baru na vodu neku ma kakvu
zagnjilu masnu od zloduha napretka
na vodu veliku malu pretoplu
od prljavih reči rastopljenih
da se ne vratim.
Find me on a deserted sky.
Play my emotions like the clowns
play with my scared dreams.
It won't end the pain
of each broken tear
I have left behind.
It will only break the glass
between my immortality
and your living desire.
I was walking down the dark, muddy war-torn forest road It was night black as heart of Lucifer and blood was everywhere. Trees were enclosing on me from the sides like wals of dark green needles and aged brown skin. They had a look on their crust, a certain look of horror and saddnes.
I noticed on the side of the road just between road and the forest wall amongst broken bones and thorn flesh, right there in the pool of blood and mud and water and acid in the trench, a man wounded trying to move, trying to scream for help but his mouth has been sewed with chains of skin and silk and metal and hair. His eyes were full of fear and they asked for help. They screamed for help. That man was in agony. His wounds were attacked by white worms and ravens and crows that gathered around and waited for his death so they could pluck his eyes out of his eyes sockets and suck on them, and wolves were lurikng in the shadows and waiting their turn for the feast. He was lying in trench full of bodies and
"It's a computer simulation. All of it! Our entire reality is programmed and underneath it is a matrix of sloppy code. Now, I'm not saying that the reality we live in isn't real per say. I'm just saying that God, who created all of this, is a programmer, and a shitty one at that. I would know. I found a glitch."
Baruk woke up. It was Tuesday. But, it's been Tuesday for thirteen days straight. By now, the gypsy college student accepted the fact that he was stuck in a time loop. He wasn't a stranger to that occurrence. He'd seen Groundhog Day twelve times by now.
"Here we go again." Just like a dozen times before, Baruk reluctantly got out of bed with a headache, determined to find a way out and go back to his old life. Though, to say what happened to him was anything similar to that famous movie would be wrong. You see, that shitty apartment didn't reset itself magically every night. In this time loop he had gotten himself into, the small room he called home was the only persistent spot
Poor humanity, what have you done!
Look at yourselves! - What you've become:
Dying minds into a dying world!
Open your eyes, dare heed my words,
Hear me, you decent fools -
Witness the gross which your life rules!
Can't you see that you've been led
By ruthless scums to your own death?
With void promises they blur your reason -
You embrace the bars of your own prison,
You blind your mind, believe in lies -
And even dare enough to call them wise!
Let them take your consciousness away,
Let them lead you far, so far astray,
Let them brand all of your joy as sin,
Let them rob you of your strength within,
Let them steal your dreams forever,
And serve your life to their endeavor,
Then they will leave you dying, still -
A mere shadow with a broken will,
A slave to misery still in their hands,
Still craving for your promised land.
Grip your hope unto your cross,
Your soul being crucified and lost.
Call me evil and perhaps I am -
I break their rules and feel no shame,
I dare the powers which
A Voice of the Soul
If alone at home you feel no better
In reading something with no letters,
If you ever dare to kill the light,
Look through the window in the night,
In the dark a shadow if you see
It could be none.... It could be me.
Come closer, stare into the moon,
If you distinguish something in the gloom,
If you see it's nothing but the wind
But if you hear it whisper in your mind,
If you heed yourself then scream aloud
From the fear you can't live without
A slumber crept your mind to steal
And it all probably just isn't real.
But if a nightmare is no dream
And if it's nothing what it seems
You may find your sanity at stake
And you must face it wide awake.
A voice from the infinite night
Can you hear in your soul inside?
How come if you live in fear
But your savior is always near,
If a mortal man is only blind
And if your gods are so divine,
If for yourself you never stand,
Responsibility all in their hands,
If all you do is lay your fate
In what they never did create,
Here I am
Here I am, an evanescent lonely ray of light
Mated with a restless and eternal night,
Here I am, a desolated land drowned into rain,
A heaven burnt to never bloom again.
Here I am, a dying flower, withering and black,
In love with the sun but fading in the dark,
Here I am, a fallen leaf in winter's cruel chill,
A frozen spark of life into a deathly still.
Here I am, one rendered, broken, tortured soul,
A lost belief, dead memory, a voiceless call,
Here I am, an empty shell, a particle of void,
A tale of everything which was destroyed.
Here I am, a song of grief and desperation,
A cursed word, a sense of devastation,
Here I am, a hope betrayed, a shameful stain,
A gruesome death, a piece of living pain.
I dread the tropical nightmare, still.
I fear dying of heat, cancers in the azure water, sand that is too small to be removed from anywhere. I shall never be warm again.
Such a nonsense phobia, seeing the world is ending.
I am sitting with you in the coldest of nights, on the weakest of rafts, watching the world get erased by the mighty wind, coiling destruction, stars speeding into the lavender horizon.
The very edge of the world. Vigorous waters that strictly guide us to the brink are showering the growing emptiness of the cosmos, dispersing into an amethyst symphony as every drop pierces Earth's vaporous envelope.
We just might be the last people on this terrestrial sphere, trying to pick up pieces of glowing heat by the blankets given out to everyone at the evacuation centers.
You're not as heroic and daunting as you were only thirty-seven hours ago teasing me in the food line. How the apocalypse affects your dignified features turning you to a lost boy. We're both lost. It's heart
The ranger and the priest - short story
It was a warm summer's day on the northern island of Walkara, where a small village was settled, bearing the same name. Of course, in the north, warm and summer were relative terms as even now, the temperatures were well below freezing and the gusts of wind scolded any unlucky traveler that was not used to the northern climates. However, strangers and natives alike feared a far worse threat than a cold gale. Trolls were marching southwards, jumping between the islands as if they were no more than a footstep apart. Trolls - those monstrous giants with hideous visage and a tough hide that rendered their body nearly impervious to most weaponry, even gunpowder. One by one they would pass the village closely at night, leaving the villagers to hide in dread of being distinguished from the white landscape and attacked. It has happened twice in the past half year alone, and every time the troll either left with a meal, or with half the village in ruins.
"Barkeep! Give me some ale." A ranger sa
I am a human, my gender is female.
My hair is bluish-black and skin is pale.
I can say I am alive, but only physically.
Feelings are dead, there is no sympathy.
Over the times battle scars got deeper.
Becoming tired inside,
my soul is crippled.
All good I touch becomes filth.
Conscience goes blank without guilt.
With pain of my bleeding heart,
I suffered constantly, I suffered to much.
No way to describe it unless you share same fate.
Imagining better world on the end of the rails.
Someone will notice and give you a hand.
You persuade yourself there is still some hope,
but future tailored paths of past again,
covered with mystic fog.
''Hey my dear all mighty God!
Where are you now?
Saving some hungry children
or sharing a peace and justice?
I can't hear you,
do you even care?
You left me too,
I am very scared.''
Sitting defeated in the big dark room,
holding my favorite black pen,
on clean sheet of paper,
I'm scrabbling d
A little drop of piece
People all around me
But still i stand alone
Where do i belong ?
Where is my home?
They all pass me by
But when they hear me speak
They stop and yell
Hahahaha what a freak
I start to run
Push trough the crowd
Try to run away
But i don't know how
The endless crowd 's
now laughing at me
there high pitched shrieks
tearing my ear
Will i ever run away
Will i ever find
A little drop of peace
A place were i can hide
Memory of a death
Mirrored glasses around her neck,
A long forgotten memory of a lost soul,
coming around again
feeding her with hate.
Go, don't go.
Twisted thoughts in her mind.
Another bird screams it's last breath.
Like a leash around someone's neck,
it's bleeding with anger.
runs through her wrists.
She wasn't what he wanted.
She wasn't what he needed.
She was fake, she was fading
in his awaken dreams.
Her skin soft like blade,
crushing silence with her tears.
Faint without excuse.
A fake memory of her death.
kissing my neck,
touching my body
with his frozen breath,
leaving me without a sound.
My body is burning of desires,
that glory that he gives to me
is takin my mind.
I'm flying away from this world...
And the little vampire is still kissing my neck...
The drunken wizard - short story
The drunken wizard.
A warm summer's day was underway on the festive island of Walampatumputu. A large flat island, floating in the east sky. Walampatumputu, or as its residents revered to it - "Walalampatumpatumpututu", was known largely for its magic fairs and joyous folk. People from all around the world came to the island in order to see and feel its glorious festivals, which occured on an almost daily basis. True, the Walampatumputu calendar was filled with all kinds of grand, religious, national, patriotic, historic or plan silly and inapropriate holidays. One such holiday was Tumper's day, during which everyone wore a tall pointy hat, in order to celebrate...well...pointy hats! And as it was ocassion on all holidays,Tumper's day was filled drinks and food and magicians showing off their trade. And it's on this day that our story starts.
The old wizard Tipsy was approached by a dark and grim man, with a child walking beside him. The man was Oliver Stone, a craftsman who made many
Sick pulse beat
is piercing my ears
is sickening my pulse
is breaking my young heart
are tearing me apart
makes me want to cry
is too perfect to be true
makes me want to scratch away
but damn it,
so perfectly painful,
I've never known existed.
the music destroys me.
and I can't live in silence.
Mature contentObliterator Daystar-Art 5 5
A dark full moon rises on the night sky
A dark full moon makes you shy
A dark full moon is a magic sign
A dark full moon in the night will shine
It's a sign for all the magic on the earth
It's a sign for all that your fighting's worth
It's a sign for all the living and dead
It's a sign for all those with a head
The magic is stronger under the moon
The magic is stronger with a rune
The magic is stronger and it's pure,
The magic is stronger and it can cure
Don't be afraid in a full moon night
You don't have for anything to fight
The full moon is for peace and protection
Open your heart and you will feel the connection