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Mature content
Vile :iconmarkuscryst:MarkusCryst 0 0
Literature
Under the Red Dust
I feel the coarse, still wet sand against my knees. The metal greaves are rough, and ill-fitting, as the roar of the crowd washes over me. The violence of the arena permeates the air.   I rise to one knee, my hand with a firm grip on my alloyed sword. It's lighter then I remember from training, that worries me. The caretakers drag the dead carcasses of the former fighters out, leaving only a bloody trail, a path that they were too weak to walk. I see my opponent. He steps into the arena, he's big. Huge in fact. A massive two handed maul in his hands, his burnished silver armor, molded in form of muscles. This is my home. The only life I remember. I tell myself that one more time, then I stand up, and roll the sword handle in my hand.
There's no love in this world. Not in it's soil, not in it's air, no plant life, no animals. Only death, rage, hatred, and fire. There's no love in this world for people like me. Not any more. We killed it.
A roar. He's charging me. I let my
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Literature
Wake Me Up
The dark is so beautiful. Comforting. Chilling. Warm. Inviting. Loving. Careing. Empty. Void. I watch the pinpricks of light called stars shimmer in a intricate dance above me. I feel the cool air breath over me as I dream softly. Questions float my mind on a sea of angst. Why aren't I happy? Why do I miss her? Who is she? Does she even...the grass rustles beneath me as I lay. I feel each blade prick my back so gently, it reminds me of her. The way her skin used to glide over mine. The way her breath felt in my hair as her hands slowly ran over my neck. The longing matches the emptiness I stare into. I would have done anything for you. I slowly slide my torso up into a sitting position. Fires burn in my eyes as I watch the cold hatred of time go by.
Who was I? In the past I mean? I don't really remember. I have this vision of a grand quest. Fight the dragon. Rescue the maiden, but was it really me? I mean. Did I do all that? Vacant, misty memories flit by my eyes in the night. Swords,
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Mature content
Truth and Illusion look the sa :iconmarkuscryst:MarkusCryst 0 0
Literature
Yearning
I worry. I barely know you, but I can tell I really care for you already. I had so much fun. I sit there folding my laundry, feeling the fabric. I miss the touch of your hand in mine. It felt natural, but I'm afraid I might have done something wrong. You seemed to enjoy yourself, but I barely know. I hope it's true...stupid shirt. Wrinkles never come out. I shouldn't get so attached. It'll just lead to heartbreak. I remember the smell of your hair in my face. The way your profile looks against the lights of whatever is around. It was quite possibly the best night of my life. That sounds so weird. I"m a freak. Clingy. Overattaching. I always do this. Then people get scared away. I just want someone who will hold me and not care. Someone who will let me hold her and be happy that I'm just there. I don't want sex. I don't even want kissing. It's nice but I rather know I'm wanted around. I want to be the first person you run to with your problems. I'm just rambing on, but I don't think I'v
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Mature content
I Hate You :iconmarkuscryst:MarkusCryst 0 0
Literature
Ashen Rain
Every word I write turns to ash. I can see the violence that exudes from the sentence and I can feel the rage that is building behind this thin ink barrier. I sense the trembling that signals the explosion. White washes over me.
As the world fades back into view, I am left standing naked on the edge of what is a worldview. The wake of the destruction I witness leaves a faint red glow in the distance. The carnage looks so pretty and I wonder at the reasoning behind everything. Why does this even matter?
The wind whips up around me, and I can see that the ghostly form of embodied self-destruction is moving upwards and into me, in a determined attempt to possess me. I welcome him with open arms, and with a roar of triumph and failure, I release the flood inside of me. Tears fall, scalding the ground around my cloven feet.
I gasp, and the words are swimming before my face, and my eyes are red. I can feel the tears and as I touch them, my fingers are coated in red. The blackness is overtaki
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deviantID

MarkusCryst
Alan
United States
I'm the creative officer and designer of games from Gallant Knight Games, a roleplaying game company. Live in Utah and am a life long gamer, art fan and more.
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:iconluprand:
Luprand Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2009  Hobbyist General Artist
Welcome to dA and thanks for watching, man.

--Sij
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