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No Cage for a Crow full cover by QuiEstInLiteris No Cage for a Crow full cover :iconquiestinliteris:QuiEstInLiteris 11 5
Literature
Babel
I have lost the gift of tongues,
or perhaps I never knew how to speak at all.
In dreams, I have seen the tower crumbling
and felt my throat closed against my fellow humans,
my voice crumbling, too,
never to be heard again.
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I'm not much of a visual artist. by QuiEstInLiteris I'm not much of a visual artist. :iconquiestinliteris:QuiEstInLiteris 7 3
Literature
The van Helsing Legacy: We Shall Not Sleep - 6


December, 1919

The house was in a furore. We could hear it from several houses away, and Mr Apostol’s steps faltered.
‘That can’t be good,’ he commented.
I stopped to listen.
The main voice I heard was Clare’s, though I could not make out the words. Many women combined pitch with volume when trying to make themselves heard, and their voices became shrill. Clare’s did not. What she neglected in pitch, she made up in even still greater volume, and her tirade broke over us from a hundred-yard distance in the inexorable bass rumble of an approaching train. That was not the sound of her grief. The woman was out for somebody’s head.
It was not the time to be introducing strangers into the house.
‘All I can think is that Quincey’s come back without an adequate excuse, and his wife is giving him what-for.’
‘I should come back later.’
‘Come back here? Heavens, no! It’s not
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Literature
Psalmody 7 2017
Death holds no sting for the dead;
the blind do not fear the dark,
nor does silence weigh heavy on the deaf.
My pain is a fragile thing,
flimsy and foundless.
I have been told to be not anxious
about any little thing ---
the Lord is my shield.
But, God, I feel death near,
and sometimes I am alone
in the dark
and the silence,
and I fear.
---
To support my writing, please visit https://www.patreon.com/mrgraham
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Literature
Psalmody 6 2017
As red the blood that washes clean my sins,
and white the water flowing through my hands,
so let each word I scriven crimson be,
each word I utter gleam like fallen snow.
Oh, Lord, take up my pen and grasp my tongue, 
and let no speech or scrawl of mine spread hate,
but closer draw humanity to love.
Shall white and scarlet in my soul entwine,
my purity and passion mimic Thine.
---
To support my writing, please visit https://www.patreon.com/mrgraham
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Literature
Psalmody 5 2017
Fifty-nine beads, wood and glass.
The words pass
over and under one another,
weaving a familiar song.
And I remember all the years
held safe between one Mother
and the other.
Flesh and spirit wove a song
of fifty-nine beads.
---
To support my writing, please visit https://www.patreon.com/mrgraham
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:iconquiestinliteris:QuiEstInLiteris 5 5
Literature
Psalmody 4 2017
Come, Spirit.
Breathe, Spirit.
Inspire.
The universe is seldom kind,
stealing as often as it gives.
Life ebbs and flows like the tide,
and sometimes, I feel like the shore,
worn away inch by inch,
year by year.
But the Spirit moves like wind,
directing the waves, and there must be a purpose.
Looking back, a pattern emerges,
each event pouring into the next,
and I discover,
that every joy has a distant root in pain.
I am a lustrous pearl, growing bright
from my wounds.
Come, Spirit.
Breathe, Spirit.
Inspire.
---
To support my writing, please visit https://www.patreon.com/mrgraham
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:iconquiestinliteris:QuiEstInLiteris 3 0
Literature
Psalmody 3 2017
Send me forward, Lord, with open eyes;
blind faith shuffles, stumbles, falls.
Let me see You in the earth, the sea, the sky,
the faces all around me, every beating heart.
Let me learn You from the brushstrokes
Your creation left behind.
Let me seek you in the atoms and the waves,
the fingerprints in the cosmic clay,
the things that change and the immutable.
Let me seek and search and someday find.
If I can see, then I will run, shuffling no more.
I will believe like a child,
whose favorite word is 'Why?'
---
To support my writing, please visit www.patreon.com/mrgraham
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Literature
Psalmody 2 2017
I am to love my neighbour as myself,
to offer my humanity and help.
So says the Lord my God, who shaped my soul.
Yet, 'Hate your body!' cries the frenzied world,
and bids me look with horror on the face
my Father sculpted with His loving hands.
What love can neighbours hope for in a place
where love of self has faithlessly been banned?
The world may do its worst, may rage and rail;
I'll love myself and thee till strength should fail.
---
To support my writing, please visit www.patreon.com/mrgraham
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Literature
Psalmody 1 2017
Today is ashes - all men die; 
to dust we will return.
Our time here passes swiftly by,
and there is much to learn.
So in these solemn days take part - 
be silent in yourself.
In stretching hands to other hearts,
we find our truest wealth.
---
To support my writing, please visit https://www.patreon.com/mrgraham
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:iconquiestinliteris:QuiEstInLiteris 6 4
Literature
The van Helsing Legacy: We Shall Not Sleep - 5

Spring, 1914
Sir Hannibal regarded the gold seals that swirled over the surface of the door, leaning heavily on a cane. He really should not have been out of bed, but Green had made the mistake of leaving him unattended, and if the fool couldn’t anticipate his complete inability to follow doctors’ orders, well, then that was on him. Hannibal eyed the door, and the pair of Wardens eyed him, neither wanting to be the one to order him back to the infirmary. Ordering Sir Hannibal to do anything had never ended well in the past.
‘How long has he been quiet?’ he asked at last.
Garner answered. ‘Three days, now.’
‘After a ruckus that lasted for two, I understand. A delayed reaction, perhaps?’
Garner and Martin exchanged a look, but neither responded.
Hannibal did not seem to notice. ‘Well, he was quiet enough before the experiment, too. How does he seem? Who’s been in to see him?’
‘Ah,
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Literature
The van Helsing Legacy: We Shall Not Sleep - 4

December, 1919
Mrs Harker had arrived when we got back. She greeted me with a kiss and Uncle Joe with a firm handshake and a few polite words of memorised Dutch. Uncle Joe replied in kind while she leaned around us to stare long and hard at his box. She said nothing about it, but her lips turned thin and hard; she had never approved of her son keeping his wife in the dark about the things that went bump in the night, and she balked at the rest of us being required to perpetuate the deception. I agreed with her and had told Quincey as much on more than one occasion, as, I believe, had Chessie and everybody else, but it wasn’t the right time to hit Clare with any more difficult news.
The children’s pale faces flickered, ghost-like, at the head of the stairs and vanished again silently. Jonathan and Ian were five and three, respectively, but children know things. Whatever measures Clare thought she had taken to keep them from worrying had p
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Literature
The van Helsing Legacy: We Shall Not Sleep - 3


S
pring, 1914


It was the monster’s shrieking that brought them to the door, and the crash of the table onto the flagged floor that encouraged them to enter. Blood flowed where his struggles had driven the leather straps into his flesh, and he stared up at them with wide, wild eyes, curses spewing forth in a dozen languages. Then his gaze sharpened, and the flow of words calmed from a torrent into a gentle, hypnotic pulse of something that resembled Aramaic, and they hurriedly plied his veins with sedatives stronger than ether until the incantation turned to drool.
The white circle painted on the floor had dried and curled up into nothing but paint chips, yellowed with extreme age.
A fragile block of blackened paper on the floor crumbled to ashy shards when Brightwell picked it up.
There was nothing at all left of the candles but a fine, white spray of wax evenly coating each wall.
Sir Hannibal lay supine, knees bent, his
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The van Helsing Legacy: We Shall Not Sleep cover by QuiEstInLiteris The van Helsing Legacy: We Shall Not Sleep cover :iconquiestinliteris:QuiEstInLiteris 5 4
Literature
The van Helsing Legacy: We Shall Not Sleep - 2



December, 1919



The jangle of the telephone woke me at about four o’clock. I peeled my face reluctantly out of the fold of the book that had become my pillow and waited to see whether or not it would ring again. It did.
The lights in the hall clicked on, and Chessie’s puffy face appeared at the door of the study. During daylight hours, she was the very picture of feminine perfection, as though she’d been painstakingly snipped out of a fashion paper and magicked to life. In a few hours, her skin would be creamy smooth, cheeks naturally blushing, dark hair flawlessly arrayed in a dangerously modern bob, not a wrinkle to be discovered in her stylish flannels. In a few hours. At four o’clock in the morning, her eyelids had stolen the rosy hue of her cheeks, and all the wrinkles that never saw the light of day seemed to have been stored up in the pillow-creases fanning across the right side of her face. She
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www.usatoday.com/story/life/bo…

^ See that Graham? That is also me. My contribution to this set was The Siren, which got some pretty decent traction here on DA before I put it out. :3

deviantID

QuiEstInLiteris
MR Graham
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
USA Today bestselling author M.R. Graham is a native Texan who traces strong cultural roots back to Scotland, Poland, England, and Germany. A mild-mannered Latin teacher during the day, Graham transforms at night into a raging Holmesian loremaster and rabid novelist.
Though passionate about all scholarship and academia, Graham's training and true love lies with anthropology, particularly the archaeological branch.
Also, steampunk and vampires.

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www.goodreads.com/mrgraham
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:iconstrixvanallen:
StrixVanAllen Featured By Owner Jul 6, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Here's the dangers of neglecting social media: since I have few active followers on wattpad, I rarely get there. I want to thank you for the kind comments on Bram's Vampire Hunter Handbook (this thing: www.wattpad.com/myworks/122596… ). It was the biggest act of nerdery that I have pulled off in the last years, and is less an effort to 'put down the rules' (they are already ingrained in my head, even if I'm not always conscious of them) and more a 'let's see how deep goes the rabbit role'. I'm glad you found it compelling.

The thing is almost complete (minus a chapter on other monsters and one on other monster hunters and supernatural societies) here, to anyone curious about it: www.deviantart.com/strixvanall…

Again, thank you for taking your time to read this exercise. It meas a lot, because I love your Van Helsing Legacy series. I hope your success keeps growing. ^^
Reply
:iconquiestinliteris:
QuiEstInLiteris Featured By Owner Jul 31, 2018  Professional Writer
xDD Oh my gosh! You're so welcome.
And I'm almost never on DA, anymore. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to reply. Really need to sit down and catch up, here. 
<3 
But yes, I love the thought you've put into this amazing world you've built! It's so detailed and internally consistent and I just love it. <3
Reply
:iconstrixvanallen:
StrixVanAllen Featured By Owner Jul 31, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
It's fine, I also have been busy. Thank you so much again. ^^ I need to read your most recent chapters, my readings are pilling up in a worrying speed. XD
Reply
:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner May 31, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Happya2 by Alimera

I hope you have a beautiful day, wonderful soul. :heart:
Reply
:icondagaizm:
DAGAIZM Featured By Owner May 31, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday!
Reply
:icondeerydeerth:
DeeryDeerth Featured By Owner May 31, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday, and may your new year of life be even more beautiful than the last~
Reply
:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2018   Writer
:glomp:
Reply
:iconcyandietroo:
CyanDietRoo Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the llama!
Reply
:iconmelalina:
Melalina Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2017  Professional General Artist
Won't you try to keep me in mind when you publish the next (4th) installment of "No Cage for a Crow". I've trued to sign up for the automatic notification, but I wasn't successful.

I'm really enjoying the story.
Reply
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