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Literature
One Reality of Dreams
Her dream was of love and light,
Her dream was a dove.
She dreamed of flying,
To heaven above.
Her dream was of riches,
Her dream was of gold.
She dreamed of immortality,
She'd never grow old.
Her dream was of glory,
Her dream was of fame,
She dreamed everyone,
Just knew her name.
She crafted a dream,
She held it tight,
It was the warmth
That kept her alive at night.
Her dream was shattered,
Her dream was lost,
Her dream was a snowball,
Into hell, tossed.
Her dream slipped away,
Her dream left her hollow,
And like her dream,
Into hell, she'd follow.
Her dream couldn't be found again,
Her path was not right.
Without her dream there,
She just stopped to fight.
Her dream was her lifeline,
Her dream, in her blood belonged.
How do you continue to live,
When your heart doesn't beat on?
Could the end have been different, somehow?
Could her light and love show?
Her end was no different that ours,
Doomed to live like a crow.
She had a dream, once.
She lived her dream like her life.
But where's
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Literature
Old Soul
Old souls
Gone astray
Sleeping now
to wake someday
Tattered aspects
Lost in time.
Last vestige
of dreams sublime.
Ancient powers
Laid to rest
Hidden deep
Neath vale and crest
Forgotten magic
myths once told
Wrapped in depths
of sleep so cold.
Old souls
start to wake
Stir in slumber
Rest forsake
Take again
What once was lost.
Ignore the danger
and the cost.
Renew the world
fulfill your task.
Dream no more
and wake at last.
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Literature
Song of the Hunter
O'er mountain peaks that touch the sky,
Through forests of green and gold.
'Cross crystal waters of blue and bright,
Past wonders few behold.
Ever wandering ever on,
No home to call my own,
I'll hunt and wander 'till I die,
A Hunter to the bone.
'Cross lands that only few have seen,
Through perils which are untold.
I search and hunt for what my heart seeks,
For the thing I no longer hold.
Ever hunting ever forward,
I hunt for the thing to make me whole.
I'll hunt and wander 'till I die,
A Hunter with the soul.
Through valleys and moors I'll make my way,
A Hunter does not stop.
To find the way, to see that day,
I'll hunt until I drop.
Ever searching ever going,
I hunt for the missing part.
I'll hunt and wander 'till I die,
A Hunter at the heart...
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Literature
Future Journal
August 19th 2010 (THU)
Well as per the order of the good Doctor Typical-Germanic-Name-Of-Which-I-Have-No-Hope-Of-Pronouncing-Nor-Spelling I have started a daily journal to give my honest opinion on the experiment for the research department to rip apart after it is all said and done.  It is a good thing I have been paid really well for this jaunt of science, I have never been fond of journal entries and I find that this exercise is no exception.
At any rate, as pertaining to the confines of what the doctor prescribed by life is dull and completely devoid of outside stimuli.  Spending most of my days confined within a sterile white room to condition myself for the experiment.  And let's not forget the brooding; I find that I have a lot of time for that.
August 20th 2010 (FRI)
So my days as of late have been filled with what could only be described as the daily regime of an Olympian.  All things considered of my life prior to this agreement, I find
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Literature
Death of a Muse
Today I found my muse was dead,
destroyed by cynicism and
hate - by you. You killed her, stepping
into my mind to find her and
dragged her out ignoring her screams
and thrust your fist into her chest.
You held her still throbbing heart in
your hand and crushed her life beneath
your foot. Now here I sit alone
for you have abandoned me too.
I picked up a pen, an attempt
to express my pain; but nothing
came, for nothing comes from nothing.
It was the ultimate revenge:
you took my muse away and left
me, a shriveled shell: dead inside.
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Literature
Eternal Love
Lips of sin,
Beckon again.
Tempting eyes,
Prominent lies.
The Devil calls,
An angel falls.
For broken wings that sting
Heaven cannot always bring,
The sweet nectar of
Eternal love.
For those who lust,
There is no trust.
Some desire.
Some acquire.
Filled with jealousy so green,
All the heart can pour is mean.
The storm never parts
For those with broken hearts,
Unless you taste the nectar of
Eternal love.
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Literature
Double Edged Blade
What is love but the hearts own sight
the pushing of good and everything right
it gives the world hope to arise from ashes
in the flames of hate but sometimes crashes
it is the only thing that can save us
but even though it always does hurt us
and cause as much pain and suffering
as its opposite, evil, one of Satan's it being
love is supposed to be everything
yet even if we believe in it we get nothing
because still only a few in this realm
believe in its power to overwhelm
and because of others doubts
i have lost its meaning and its whereabouts
life used to be so easy when love was everywhere
but now i find it so difficult just to even stare
into a girls eyes that i love because of the pain
of knowing to her no love does remain
nothing left in her heart for me
and so never can my love for her never be
its is incomplete and i cannot decree
how much i feel for her because it pushes her
farther away from me and it starts to deter
into lonelyness and depression galore
loves caused me to k
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:iconssmcleod:SSMcLeod 6 6
Literature
Insanity
Wild eyes spread like wild fire,
across the darkened room.
Oh let me out, oh let me out,
please do let me go.
So once again I may be free to play,
in the pouring rain.
As we sit and cry insane,
the clock still loudly ticks.
Oh let me out, oh let me out,
please do let me go.
So once again I may be free to run,
in the fields all day.
Slowly, slowly the walls close in,
and smother aura around us.
Oh let me out, oh let me out,
please do let me go.
So once again I may be free to jump,
into the cooling water.
Lowly, loudly desperation grinds,
so let your struggling mind go.
Oh let me out, oh let me out,
please do let me go.
So once again I may be free to walk,
far away from here.
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:iconssmcleod:SSMcLeod 57 9
Literature
A Personal Concept of Love
You once told me that you would die for the one you loved, and I laughed at your sentiment.  The look on your face was priceless; a combination of hurt, betrayal and skepticism.  You never understood why I would laugh at a statement that you and many see as arguable the sincerest offer one could make based on an emotion.
What I never told you was why.  Why would I laugh at such a sentiment, is pure and simple: it is arguably the single most redundant thing an individual can say.  The promise the statement offers is both useless, and ultimately doomed to failure.
Understand this; very few people enjoy the sight of another person's death, emotional context irrelevant, and the severity only increasing with the strength of the connection.  What do you think your death would do to the person you love, especially after they found out that you had died for them?  It would tear anyone with at least a single iota of humanity apart on t
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Literature
Script - A Suicide Short
FADE IN:
BEDROOM DUSK
Protagonist sits at the edge of his bed with a pistol pressed against his temple.
Protagonist (shudders slightly)
Well this is it… in a moment it will all be over…
Protagonist (slowly pulls the trigger.  A slight "clunk" sounds)
Imagination (steps into Protagonist's line of sight, eating from a bag of chips)
Imagination (rubbing salt from his fingertips)
You forgot the safety.  You will find it rather impossible to fire a round with it still engaged.
Protagonist (lowers pistol to his waist)
Who are you?
Imagination (shrugs)
Don't you recognize me?
Protagonist (rubs eyes)
You look like… me?  But that would be impossible.  How is it that I am seeing myself?
Imagination (shrugging, leans against wall and slides down into a seated position)
No… I am not you.  I am a… lets see… visual representation of your subconscious.  Or if you would prefer, I
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Activity


Alright than...

News:

1) I have started to write again in the first time in say... oh 16 months... quite the time off but school and all (the all being work, and soon to be dad :D)

2) I have found another outlet for artistry... okay its cooking, and many probably assume it will not be pretty, but a junior sous at a reasonably respected restaurant, and allowed to play with plating will help - hopefully I will be able to get some pictures up, but we all know its about the words for you people so ;) shhh... they are coming be patient

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SSMcLeod
Canada
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