NagatoYuuki's avatar
undefined in spirit, not courage
42 Watchers13.9K Page Views141 Deviations

v.V The End

v

v.V The End

And so, my dearest Calista, you remain nowhere. In love your nails submerge into her wretched abdomen, scouring deep between her pulsing moralities, go deep, dearest Calista, so deep, farther down into her core, then deeper still. Dearest Calista, listen closely to her cries, do you hear how she pleads His name? No. She sings, Calista. You harmonize in her sonnet of pain. You echo in her raging soprano. She wants more, Calista, let her have it all, just a little more, Calista, pierce deep into her anterior wall, and dig deep, dearest Calista, dig deeper into her rotten flesh, for only in sleep would her demons sing to her. Deares

v.IV Upon a Bed of Lavender and Roses

v

v.IV Upon a Bed of Lavender and Roses

Tears melted her a garden, upon her sheets of lavender and roses, this sister sleeps, for far away shores inked in dark, this child lay still in silver light. So frail between her ivory bloom, this child lay still, her bust, unformed, adorned in white, her petals, unfallen, unstained by black, her body, unbroken, untouched by sin. As so in sleep she dreams the dream of dreams, so young she sleeps upon the shore, in life her heart given true to He, whom’s love she swore, so blind, abhor. But dearest Calista, don’t you hear them? This child had heard her demons’ song. Your lust had caged her, her existence thin. In time y

v.III This Ink Dries Coarse

v

v.III This Ink Dries Coarse

Dear Father I beg you reconsider. The months grow old between us, so much so I fear the seasons may wither into infirmity. Dear Father you declaim of these dreams, but I beg, what dreams are there to dream as I lay awake each night, sleepless as the starry sky. Oh Father you speak of these demons that plague me, yet the only demon I conceive of is She, and my actions, as stained as they may be through the lens of time, remain lucid to me, in my mind. Dear Father I beg of you take me from this place. These wafer sheets offer meager respite from their insufferable cries. And their eyes, dear Father, they stare upon me as if my form refl

v.II How Tears Melt

v

v.II How Tears Melt

Tears melt into oceans. Across broken shores the siren lay, wasted across lonely shingle, ravaged by passing storms. From under crying ripples her eyes reared: White sands inked in black, black skies bleached by white, entropy muffled beneath crashing waves. Freedom had caged her, calm scrawled under her nails. Silence had deafened her, memories eroded across the shore. Do you see? No… His voice reigned heavy upon her, her corpse sank; drenched beneath him. A voiceless breath, bewitched in song. A warmthless sun, a spectre of change. A fragment of cipher. Dusk stained deep now, between the folds of white. Wounds bled thick now,

v.I My Dearest Calista

v

v.I My Dearest Calista

Dearest Calista, you are nowhere. Sleeping to the sound of trickling waters, waking as your fluids drain between cragged tiles, watching as they dribble from your rotten carcass, weeping as they drain into your rifted flesh. Dearest Calista, listen closely to your cries. You do not plead for help. You do not scream in pain. You do not shout in rage. No. Not even your song can be heard from beneath your crumbling cage. Dearest Calista, how your mind screams. Beneath your ragged corpse your colours drain. Echoes crash against your ridged seams. Biles mingle inside your rotten passages; dye seeping out your stoned retinas. My Dearest Cal

Archaic

A

Archaic

You… Don’t remember how you got here. When you got here. Your skin is pricked by the frost of dawn as your eyes look out through the sun-burst canopy of rosen sakura. You don’t remember how you got here, and you’re not afraid. Should you not be afraid? You hear echoes of raindrops fall in your past yet no understanding of why. The echoes fade into harmony; vibrations through the wind. You hear ocean waves crashing through the song. What music is this? You find control of yourself and take a step forward; your feet wet in the carpet of ancient dew that imbues your roots. You take another step… And an
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v.V The End

v

v.V The End

And so, my dearest Calista, you remain nowhere. In love your nails submerge into her wretched abdomen, scouring deep between her pulsing moralities, go deep, dearest Calista, so deep, farther down into her core, then deeper still. Dearest Calista, listen closely to her cries, do you hear how she pleads His name? No. She sings, Calista. You harmonize in her sonnet of pain. You echo in her raging soprano. She wants more, Calista, let her have it all, just a little more, Calista, pierce deep into her anterior wall, and dig deep, dearest Calista, dig deeper into her rotten flesh, for only in sleep would her demons sing to her. Deares

v.IV Upon a Bed of Lavender and Roses

v

v.IV Upon a Bed of Lavender and Roses

Tears melted her a garden, upon her sheets of lavender and roses, this sister sleeps, for far away shores inked in dark, this child lay still in silver light. So frail between her ivory bloom, this child lay still, her bust, unformed, adorned in white, her petals, unfallen, unstained by black, her body, unbroken, untouched by sin. As so in sleep she dreams the dream of dreams, so young she sleeps upon the shore, in life her heart given true to He, whom’s love she swore, so blind, abhor. But dearest Calista, don’t you hear them? This child had heard her demons’ song. Your lust had caged her, her existence thin. In time y

v.III This Ink Dries Coarse

v

v.III This Ink Dries Coarse

Dear Father I beg you reconsider. The months grow old between us, so much so I fear the seasons may wither into infirmity. Dear Father you declaim of these dreams, but I beg, what dreams are there to dream as I lay awake each night, sleepless as the starry sky. Oh Father you speak of these demons that plague me, yet the only demon I conceive of is She, and my actions, as stained as they may be through the lens of time, remain lucid to me, in my mind. Dear Father I beg of you take me from this place. These wafer sheets offer meager respite from their insufferable cries. And their eyes, dear Father, they stare upon me as if my form refl

v.II How Tears Melt

v

v.II How Tears Melt

Tears melt into oceans. Across broken shores the siren lay, wasted across lonely shingle, ravaged by passing storms. From under crying ripples her eyes reared: White sands inked in black, black skies bleached by white, entropy muffled beneath crashing waves. Freedom had caged her, calm scrawled under her nails. Silence had deafened her, memories eroded across the shore. Do you see? No… His voice reigned heavy upon her, her corpse sank; drenched beneath him. A voiceless breath, bewitched in song. A warmthless sun, a spectre of change. A fragment of cipher. Dusk stained deep now, between the folds of white. Wounds bled thick now,

v.I My Dearest Calista

v

v.I My Dearest Calista

Dearest Calista, you are nowhere. Sleeping to the sound of trickling waters, waking as your fluids drain between cragged tiles, watching as they dribble from your rotten carcass, weeping as they drain into your rifted flesh. Dearest Calista, listen closely to your cries. You do not plead for help. You do not scream in pain. You do not shout in rage. No. Not even your song can be heard from beneath your crumbling cage. Dearest Calista, how your mind screams. Beneath your ragged corpse your colours drain. Echoes crash against your ridged seams. Biles mingle inside your rotten passages; dye seeping out your stoned retinas. My Dearest Cal

Archaic

A

Archaic

You… Don’t remember how you got here. When you got here. Your skin is pricked by the frost of dawn as your eyes look out through the sun-burst canopy of rosen sakura. You don’t remember how you got here, and you’re not afraid. Should you not be afraid? You hear echoes of raindrops fall in your past yet no understanding of why. The echoes fade into harmony; vibrations through the wind. You hear ocean waves crashing through the song. What music is this? You find control of yourself and take a step forward; your feet wet in the carpet of ancient dew that imbues your roots. You take another step… And an

Spotlight

v.I My Dearest Calista

v

v.I My Dearest Calista

Dearest Calista, you are nowhere. Sleeping to the sound of trickling waters, waking as your fluids drain between cragged tiles, watching as they dribble from your rotten carcass, weeping as they drain into your rifted flesh. Dearest Calista, listen closely to your cries. You do not plead for help. You do not scream in pain. You do not shout in rage. No. Not even your song can be heard from beneath your crumbling cage. Dearest Calista, how your mind screams. Beneath your ragged corpse your colours drain. Echoes crash against your ridged seams. Biles mingle inside your rotten passages; dye seeping out your stoned retinas. My Dearest Cal
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Artist // Student // Literature
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My Bio
My name is Michael, though I prefer to be named Yuuki for some reason.

I'm nothing much when it comes to art, but do often have urges to write random stuff that may or may not be credible.

Favourite Visual Artist
Raide, Hebitsukai, Redfishing, Kato (steamgirl)
Favourite Movies
涼宮ハルヒの消失, Summer Wars, 時をかける少女, Black Rock Shooter, Cencoroll
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
supercell, Livetune, Beguettes Ensemble, Parov Stelar, 王族BAND
Favourite Books
The Melancholy Series, The Old Kingdom Seires
Favourite Writers
Nagaru Tanigawa, cpl_crud, Suriko
Favourite Games
Dark Souls, Project DIVA, Soul Calibur, Skullgirls, Atelier Ayesha, Yume Nikki
Favourite Gaming Platform
PC, PS3
Tools of the Trade
Bass Guitar, Pen/pencil, Paper.
Other Interests
Cafes.

Words. Words. Words.

Words. Words. Words.

So I feel that I should speak some words now that I have finished writing this small story concerning dear Calista. The name to me not a days ago as I voyaged across the spine of wales toward my parent's new permanent home in Conwy, near abouts Llandudno, at the northern coast of wales. It came to me as simply as that. A name. A figment untouched by the grubby little paws of the material. What followed was a harsh but nostalgic wave of inspiration caused by the re-discovery of sorts of potentially my two most favoured of musical narrative works: Electrocutica's REVERSUS, a tragic and melancholic tale of a spirit lost beneath the waves of re

What is this aroma?

What is this aroma?

"What is this aroma? People gather close to this place like a coma. 'The clock' they shout, 'the clock ticks once more', no doubt. For a-midst the hustle and bustle of the sweeping streets, an aroma both new and old, how ever so sweet. From the corner laid curb, such is this smell superb, to seep through the air of a people, who chatter-by at this golden steeple. What is this place; who's quaint interior does it encase? Who's clock does tock-tick once more, who's chime one can't not adore? This house built anew, the title Korner-Clock-Cog placed askew. An orphan swept soaring, succeeding soundly upon the foundation of this clock-tower's

hi

hi

nothing to see here.

Comments 234

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Hello, Michael, and thank you for joining :iconliberated-writers:!

We're so happy you decided to hop on board! We'll be doing weekly prompts (which are recommended you participate in but they aren't required) and some contests here pretty soon. Don't be afraid to contribute your work, to the right folder of course.  We hope you enjoy your stay, and if you have any questions don't hesitate to either note me or the other adminAmphetamineDreamsDreamer9431,That1PersonYouForgot, or Sharkitty.

Happy writing!
happy bi-day <3 Airborne 
NagatoYuukiStudent Writer
I'm sorry I missed this. Thank you for the message. I hope you're doing well yourself.
Thanks for watch favs and everything :happybounce: 
Quill-TailHobbyist Digital Artist
Tagged! [link]
Quill-TailHobbyist Digital Artist
[link]

You know it's true.
YangTuZhiHobbyist Interface Designer
Thank you for the :+fav:~