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About Literature / Hobbyist Death Mask SalesmanMale/Unknown Recent Activity
Deviant for 3 Years
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by Rhoder

Well, man. I'm DMS from ProjectComment. Let's get started. Vision I gave four stars and a half to Vision for a specifical motive: you, ...

Newest Deviations

The Cerulean Blade
Rise, o Blade,
silent, buried judge.
From crimson flame
and virescent inferno
your virtue shimmers.
Shine, o Blade,
beneath an inky sea.
Astray in your domain,
lunacy is its name.
Who dares follow your glint?
Speak, o Blade,
velvet voice in the shadows.
Magnet of wanderers
with a mithril edge,
where is it that you slumber?
Assess, o Blade,
the vagrants' resolve.
Worthy are those who
brave your realm
and emerge unscathed.
Unravel, o Blade,
the smooth silk
of midnight lies.
Irrational oracle who
rewards the forbearing.
Rest, o Blade,
in the souls' depths.
Cerulean envoy of truth,
as sudden as an eclipse,
with eyes of crystal.
:icondmsalesman:DMSalesman 5 2
Random Gem #1
The Technologic Middle Ages
The rich will get richer, while the poor will be puppets. Isn't it an old mindset, after all? Still, it seems to be valid nowadays as well, in 2017, the Age of Li(k)es.
As usual, this is intended to be a rant towards the central, dominant position of money in our society. The same instrument used to force people into a cruel game of power, made of illusions. A facade inside the real game of life.
So, why "Technological Middle Ages?" Well, just look around. What do you see? Do you see a replica of those landlords of the past, now impersonated by local politicians? Do you see a world that might be a potential utopia, if it wasn't plagued by the desire to command over others? If you do, then congratulations, as you were able to see with my eyes.
Is it okay that people have to work the entirety of their lives just to survive, instead of being recognized the right to be alive? Is it okay that those who grow old are ultimately disca
:icondmsalesman:DMSalesman 2 12
Majora's Mask - Part I: The March
A rainfall was flowing noisily, the unique sound to break the thick silence of that eerie place. The dust was hovering lazily, gently wrapping my ankles, as I wandered, deeply lost in my thoughts.
Ikana… it was there, driven by an unquenchable thirst that only the greed for knowledge could stir, that I travelled. The house of that respected researcher, who moved there with his daughter, was silent. The sun was shining brightly in Termina's sky, spreading its rays and projecting long, haunting shadows upon the valley.
Nothing unusual, you'll say. The melody composed by the professor was not necessary anymore. An atrocious rigmarole that was, so horrible it could drive away the dead, and me along with them. Instead, all was silent, since the hero with the green tunic had brought peace throughout all of Termina in his mission to recover one of my masterpieces. A masterpiece which was lost for long ages, but finally found its way back,
:icondmsalesman:DMSalesman 6 9


Crystal Ball
Softly, it spoke to me;
intuition’s foreboding —
     Writings on the wall
:iconlady-yume:Lady-Yume 9 5
A Letter from the Late Professor Stone
March 13, 2018
To Whom It May Concern,
    If you’ve found this letter, which was hidden among the personal effects of my home, it can only mean that I am no longer of the living. This does not come as a surprise to me, given the recent events that have taken place in my life. I’ve sensed for days that my end was drawing near, and have decided to leave this letter in the hopes that it might prevent anyone else from befalling the same fate as I.
    I am neither a superstitious man, nor a religious one. I have long since left behind the childish ideals of the fantastical and supernatural. I see the world not through rose-tinted lenses; rather, I see it in the sepia hues of the past and the factual. Perhaps it was because of this view of the world that I am no longer a part of it.
    For the last several months, I have been accompanied against my will nearly everywhere by an uninvited entourage. I di
:iconmidnightdaybreak:MidnightDaybreak 82 59
where are you
where are you --
humming below the temple or in sore vocal cords,
behind the eyes or on the tip of the tongue?
are you in the silences in-between or are you the scream,
are you in the skin?
is that your image on the wall,
is it you outside and in?
are you whole?
it's that cursed incomplete consciousness wedging into self --
divide, scatter, and conquer.
you think you're attuned but you're broken,
as if the conqueror isn't you.
where are we --
foreigners in our own form,
cast into slavery, the tyranny of shattered selves?
:iconraido-ehwaz:raido-ehwaz 35 39
The Execution of Judy Monroe
In glamour, in glitter-infested Hollywood
the movie star Judy Monroe’s almond eyes; coaled melodramatic,
tilt towards the camera.
She weeps.
The executioner motions forward; 
a tall man, no guardian angel.
She watches his movement; spiteful, hated as he proudly glides
to prep for the grand finale.
She prays.
A prayer to God with no love, each lens focused on her.
Black and white replaced by orange overalls.
She was found,
She was judged,
And Judy Monroe will be judged
Until opulence is extinguished and her dimpled cheeks sallow
and her pretty head drops.
She dies.
When the tall man grazes her last touch,
leather grasps her wrists tight.
the poison plunges and she falls before them all:
behold her final bow.
intense silence, 
release and exhale. 
:iconbeccajs:BeccaJS 5 10
SWX by dawnpu SWX :icondawnpu:dawnpu 1,942 61
Just A Dream
Shots rang out in the distance. He flinched with each trigger pulled, holding on to his gun for dear life. He was terrified of what would happen if his head rose above the trench. The young man begged God for an escape. The need to leave the horror of his friends being blown into tiny pieces was unrelenting. Gunpowder and decaying body parts permeated his skin, reminding him of the reality. As his arms rose to protect his face from the blood and mud that rained from the sky, he rested against the trench wall and wept silently. It had been too long since he had been home, too long since he had been in his bed and a hot meal in his grumbling belly.
Slowly, he drifted away with the tears. The smell of grass filled his senses with a pleasant aroma. The temptation to completely drift away from everything lingered as the smell of burning flesh filled the air around him. The tears of fear flowed, unabated as the gunfire came closer, bullets buzzing in his ears. He closed his eyes again, tryin
:iconpennedinwhite:PennedinWhite 16 19
Alone: Kia the Exorcist
Noon, and nothing interesting has happened yet. It’s like that a lot of days.
My name is Kia Awara, and I am the owner (and sole employee) of K Exorcists. As the name implies, I exorcise ghosts for a living. Most of the time I’ll get called out to a house only to find out that the owner just got spooked by some creaky furniture, but every so often it’s a genuine haunting. That’s when I get to do my thing.
Unlike most exorcists, I’m not descended from any special bloodline. None of my ancestors were spirit mediums or shrine maidens or anything like that (though my great-grandfather was a professional rodeo clown, which is completely unrelated to anything but still amusing to me), I just happened to be born with strong spiritual power and decided to turn it into a career. It’s an interesting job, to be sure…long periods of boredom punctuated by occasional bouts of pure terror.
Today, like most days, the boredom is winning. I’ve been in my &
:iconredherochild:Redherochild 4 10
Twist by Slauer Twist :iconslauer:Slauer 45 13
In the deepest hour of night, Halian slides off the dirt platform of his bed. Shivering, he tucks the blankets back around his daughter, Lituwa, who just turned four. Her dark hair splays across the grass-stuffed mattress. He kisses his wife’s forehead, then her lips. She smiles in her sleep.
Segowa, his wife, embroidered the top blanket. The arrowhead leaves of her family crest intertwine with the ghostblossom of Halian’s. Two plants that rarely meet in the rainforest understory, yet here they are, twisted together in green and white thread. One of the few marks of his existence in this plank house.
Coals cast soft orange light on Segowa’s sleeping family – sister, parents, mother’s parents. Beyond them are rows of beds in both directions. Several families live under one vaulted ceiling. Halian married into the house four years ago, but the carved stone animals on the hearth mantelpieces still watch him. He swears their eyes glow.
He lifts a polished wood
:iconakrasiel:akrasiel 70 38
Daily Paint 1639. Dragonfly Trap by Cryptid-Creations Daily Paint 1639. Dragonfly Trap :iconcryptid-creations:Cryptid-Creations 3,754 72 Toadstool on a pillow of moss by RavenMontoya Toadstool on a pillow of moss :iconravenmontoya:RavenMontoya 250 93 The Magic by ryky The Magic :iconryky:ryky 4,340 77
The Traveller
All your life you´ve wandered,
you´ve never settled down.
Hoping at the next stop
your fortune could be found.
Never allowed your roots to spread,
you´d be up and take your leave,
not letting anyone get too close,
too scared to show you feel.
A home, you never had one,
no friend to call your own,
just a thousand different faces,
your memory can´t recall.
Your restless soul pushed you further,
much further than is good.
This desire to just keep travelling on,
no one ever understood.
A home, you never had one,
just a thousand sad goodbyes
and maybe just one special person
would bid farewell with teary eyes.
So fare thee well you lonesome man
and if you pass this way again,
I hope you´ll stop and stay a while
and I´ll get to call you friend.
24th May 2016
Suzanne Karbach
:iconsupach:Supach 128 93



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DMSalesman's Profile Picture
Death Mask Salesman
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Death Mask Salesman here. My main focus is writing literature and critiques.

Any points given to me will be devolved to initiatives such as Critmas' points pool or ProjectComment.

If you need to contact me, write a Note, a comment or drop by my XMPP/Jabber account,


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(1 Reply)
DuchesseOfDusk Featured By Owner Mar 5, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Hey, I saw that you have some literature in your gallery. So if you're looking feedback on it, you might want to check out my group :iconreadthine-readmine:
There we exchange literature critiques on a regular basis.
You find the rules here: The Rules - English
If you have any questions, just ask me or send a note to the group :) (Smile)
And if you're not interested, that's also perfectly fine :) (Smile)
(1 Reply)
paytonsnewheart Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2018  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the llama!
(1 Reply)
IamNoHere Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2017
Thank you for the llama!:)
(1 Reply)
akrasiel Featured By Owner Dec 18, 2017  Professional Writer
Thank you :tighthug:
(1 Reply)
doolhoofd Featured By Owner Nov 22, 2017
Happy birthday! 
(1 Reply)
BATTLEFAIRIES Featured By Owner May 17, 2017
Mi llama es su llama
(1 Reply)
doolhoofd Featured By Owner Nov 22, 2016
Birthday cake by KmyGraphic  
(1 Reply)
DocVexing Featured By Owner May 12, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
I have read some of your critiques on other's work, and I must say, you do a phenomenal job of finding what's weak in writing and then giving good advice. Kudos to you.
(1 Reply)
Serendiipitii Featured By Owner Feb 1, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Hey hey! Just wondering when you might be able to get your app in to the group?
Lemme know if you need help (:
(1 Reply)
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