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About Deviant Core Member Jeff ValdesMale/United States Groups :iconwritten-madness: Written-Madness
The Insane and their Friends
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Deviant for 5 Years
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Literature
Follow
Follow
Into the Fray the Bold and True.
Into the Hells wrought by Angels.
Into the the sound of thunder crashing;
crashing on the Eastern shore.
The Earth is railed at their wake.
Through sound and arms they strike as none.
And have awoken a peace seen aloof;
the World is united against the storm.
For centuries the land has quaked.
Histories have been made upon those dunes;
those dunes that make the Eastern shore.
For on those shores, the black gold prospers.
Guns and Oil have been no stranger to Mother Earth.
Surely she coughs at each puff.
But of that pain
is for another time.
Today the journey continues,
the never ending quest to soak a land
with the red of a nation grim,
and strike fear in those that would follow.
Who is to say,
which aim is true?
Should the giant bow to the snake?
or should the snake make still his woeful fangs
Against an enemy so dear.
One can triumph against many!
That is their call.
Yet time and again,
their cries have adorned our halls
We strike as one, with s
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Literature
Teachers
I met a woman, long ago, her spirit bold, her skin so fair, yet her past, a tale untold.
I saw her through the blackest night, a night that still evokes a seeded fear.
How could I have been such a fool, may the Gods strike me so bold!
She took my heart and stamped it out, rend asunder, and took to flight.
Left me broken, this I know, I still can grasp her scent in wind so foul; it grips my soul.
Truly, I lay upon my back, gazed at stars; I would see the moon burn red; may Love be brought down low, for I lay forsaken here.
I took her by the hand, I comforted her deepest fears and banished them unto the void.
She led me to believe, that I was only One, Bold and spoken for, it was all a lie.
I swore in two tongues, and then a third, I would see the day fall dim, should I wake from this ill dream, may I never be so bold.
Time went on, and I healed my broken heart.
Then as if the Gods heard me, They sent an Angel to renew my Flame, and I found myself, a Man again.
She basked in my words, to
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Literature
Gems
Gems
So soon does the page end.
So soon does my ink dry out;
spread so thinly as my soul,
yet the words that I doth writ
gleam as bright as hidden gems.
Sought from this world;
I hid in shame.
Within myself;
I found a power
So great and unimaginable;
A diamond mine, I struck
And thus did these words flow
Verses, psalms, and notes profound;
Within me, birthed a new sound.
At once did I discover;
I took to page and writ these words,
Lashed from bone
and penned in blood;
Great truths did I proclaim.
I called to others;
Writers dim and great alike.
Painters undiscovered;
Artists both unknown and famous;
all sought out
To share what I had uncovered
A gift and blessing to all who read.
May they find the strength here
that eluded them all their years.
May Truth exalt our souls,
As we all seek fame
To make us feel, truly accomplished.
I danced my pen across the cello’s strings
I twitched the chords of an angelic harp
I sang a song and angels found it bright
Lifted me up, from this darkne
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Literature
Should...
Should...
Should madness grace me here this night,
I’ll sever pen from this eerie dusk light.
And mark the note, so clear, with angel flight,
To hear the song, of divine and ancient might.
I’ll pause my quill and rest my ears
on a chord that sings, sublime, away my fears.
Through all my hopes and dreams, I’ll fade away with joyful tears
At Heavenly choir, that draws me ever near.
I can see Hell; no more, and now unclear...
My path before me, alit with thoughts and wings.
These songs I hear, from darkened hymns and choral beams;
I am ripped apart at the seams,
by tunes and visions that haunt my dreams,
and visit me upon my waking eyes, dear ‘oh me, I’ve won the prize
A great gift, this maddened pen,
that etches psalms across the minds of men.
And tears from them their slumber deep;
turns them into the humble and the meek.
By grace is given, these haunting visions;
at once they plagued me, now they only visit
and dote upon me wise; greets me with gifts and n
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Framing  of Saraswati by The-Anariarch Framing of Saraswati :iconthe-anariarch:The-Anariarch 2 1
Literature
On Temple Ground
On Temple Ground
Oh sacred Ground,
thy Earth is pure,
thy song is gold;
as the diamond of the world.
Oh holy site
now marked by stars, all alight,
your presence is graced
by Her divine steps,
Of which she made
of her own accord.
Her resplendent song;
A golden voice
as pure as the swan
that blessed the Eternal Pond.
A majestic Temple
Built on holy rock,
With brick and stone, taken from afar
and carried to this place; delight,
My home will open to all.
I hear the wind
from Her lips.
Her name is pure;
I dare not utter it aloud.
Yet She is known
by all great Muses.
She arrives in Dreams
etched from immortal seed,
Thy shall bask in song and brew.
Merry are those days
That lifted me from my descent,
Her faithful tune,
Carried me from darkest Hell.
Upon her bosom
I rest my crown
She soothes me still
with her divine image.
She sings to me a song;
well played on lute so rare.
Without Her blessing,
I could not prevail.
Without Her guidance,
My step would surely falter.
I thank Her now, with this
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Literature
Footsteps...Alone
Footsteps...Alone
There are many sights that I have seen,
Upon the pebbled road,
Upon the simple path,
Yet none can compare
To the sight of my soul,
Empty and Alone.
I use to think
That I was meant to be alone.
Now I am sure of it.
But it no longer bothers me.
I use to cry,
Alone in the dark;
Without a guiding hand,
Rent from Angels light.
I use to cry alot,
Now I am still.
As a stone within a pond,
Immersed in sorrow,
Yet unmoved or unshaken.
What have I become?
I don’t feel like I use to.
My Heart is cold.
I muse about the noble woman,
who may yet rekindle,
A broken, soft Heart.
And here I stand,
After the long road,
Upon the precipice .
A new chapter awaits;
Beyond.
I remember my Father.
I think of my Mother.
This journey has been for them
as much as it is for me.
I remember my Fathers wisdom:
“The road is endless.”
I hear my Mothers words:
“You are not alone.
Angels love thee.”
I wish that I could
feel their grace upon my soul.
I feel sickened
that I c
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Literature
In Want
In Want
How great my desire,
How fortunate my soul.
To sit here at chapters end,
And bask in glory whole.
I cannot believe,
The luck bestowed
upon my able mind,
and failing body.
To me I make this vow,
that once I win the day,
All shall bow
before my unconquerable soul.
And once the day is won,
I will reap my Fathers wishes,
and make his dreams
an ever waking reality.
I shall find a home,
for what is left
of us, too few in number,
yet great with score.
We shall revel in our glory,
and wonder at our joyous luck,
but the embers of chance shall fade
only to reveal
Twas Fates hand and not lady luck.
That played their part so great.
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Literature
The Calm - An Anariarch Musing
The Calm - An Anariarch Musing
If one sits upon a stone so calm, if one glances far up above, they might see feathers, rent from angel wings so bright; I have seen such a sight. A single feather brings peace so clear. A single thought, spreads a message so profound; very deep, I find them still. Floating above a pond, or flowing amongst a river. Stuck on a branch, or among the roses; once I saw a Feather in my Tea, its fluff shining through the morning mist, as a lighthouse amidst high cliffs. I sit in my kitchen, about me there are herbs and spices, an aroma here and there, even incense puffs from a stalk, fastened to a holder, as wise as time. There are plants that perk the eyes and give amusing blooms. Flowers spread their pollen; my nose is stalwart at their scent, never sneezing yet at once allured. Peace come to my mind; I sip my tea, it is very fine. My House is clearly divine.
Beyond this table, at which I sit, behind me lie two open doors, a gateway to my Garden. But with this
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Literature
Ancient Conquerer - An Anariarch Tale
Ancient Conquerer - An Anariarch Tale
If ever there was a time, to put in writ these thoughts of mine, now is the hour, for mine enemies flee and cower; With this sign I have conquered. Truth and musings, this I speak, from tongue once wicked, now humble, thus, meek. With ancient bread, and simple wine, I partake this of mine this night. And should my soul decide, this very night to take deep flight, I shall travel very far, and bring glad tidings; there is no need to spar. My pen is gentle by eerie light, caressed by a moon lit star, I shall write great words, with strength and might.
Of the road behind, I speak in solemn verse; the thought of it does fully immerse. Myself, I am marked and scarred, wounded, yet still I march on. I was not always this brave, it was not always that my head looked above. Often, I would be found in the Pit, blacken as Oil, crying out as a misfit; truly I say. The demons would sometimes win the day. Yet night and sleep does not end the road; dreams as whis
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Literature
A Vision by The Anariarch #1
A Vision by The Anariarch #1
Twas on a cold barren night; I lay still upon the grass. My pipe ember smolders beside me; a puff taken hours ago. I made clear my intent to the green herb, I sought the Shamans wisdom, I sought to cleanse my soul.
My father, still living, scorned me from afar, but did not impede. My mother, dearest of all, stood away and worried still. But none dared impede.
I lay still upon the blue grass; not a single muse befell me. My mind was empty of all thoughts; I simply stared beyond the Heavens.
Then at once was I shook, my body trapped and unmoving; my breathing seemed to stop. I had thought Death would draw his Scythe, and take me beyond the Gate; at once I saw my folly, I was young and without wisdom.
Paralyzed upon my blue grass bed, I trembled silently as a babe; an open door into my mind, soon the flood will be upon me and mine. From the Garden did it wake, a howl from beyond, ancient with hunger, though as family did it take me. I could have sworn, I heard
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Literature
Eschenspeer
Eschenspeer
Rent from Ash,
I fashion thee;
My weapon, my gear,
A spear so dear.
Barbed tip,
for max bloodshed,
It shall never miss
its target, dead, so I said.
Plagued by wolves,
I am harried still.
Yet I battle on,
Rage, and with parried skill.
I meet a brigand
on the road.
He draws his knife,
Long and curved.
Death comes for me this night
But I am quick;
I am as the hunter,
slaked of fear,
I toss my spear.
Abreast his chest,
The lance doth pierce;
The brigand falls,
cursing his luck, full of ills.
I continue on,
The road so clear,
Amidst wooded trees,
and many a brush.
From afar I spy a faun,
playing his flute,
and playing it well;
I circle him, clever with fear.
He smells my scent,
and hurries quick,
away from me;
He now flees.
Mayhap my spear
scared him off;
I only wanted to
see him scoff;
at my rendering of Ash,
taken from ancient wood,
fair and bold,
is this spear.
I shall name it now,
and name it true;
all will now it
as the notched spear
of Scathach dear.
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Literature
The Kingly Garden
The Kingly Garden
Rent from Heavens wrath, hidden by Hells ill cloak; The Garden lies within. Many a traveler, feet with callous sore, have walked beyond its rivers; many a wise man, spent by books, have passed its trees, so serene. It is veiled by magicks so ancient, invisible to eye untrained. All can enter, yet none have, as of yet, Its gates locked for Eons, Its fruit un-eaten and Its fruit unspoiled. Buried in the mountain, tossed to sea; It can be free, for underground it lies, deep within and seen without. Eclipsed by a Shadow, guarded by the Scythe, It lies in wait, waiting for a soul to drink Its dew, fermented still, from ‘falls so soft, and machine thus brewed.
Twas at the Sunset It was built, a rally cry to the forgotten Star. Devils trident had sparked the flame, now kindled by me and mine, Thrice does the Harp play at dawn. Eden to all, with wine so sweet, and feast so great, The horn of plenty grants us boons; I lie in wait, for a visitor so dear; Its lonely here.
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Literature
An Encounter with the Anariarch
An Encounter with the Anariarch
Hell seemed to smile, and then, no more.
By Inferno’s light do I thee call; a Fire unrelenting, a flame eternal and unbound. Truly my head will not bow; Never to the likes of you, mortal, damned, and temporal. Ye, thy evil Witch, begone from my sight, and never bother me again. You have slaked my lust, you have warmed my heart; Twas all a lie, forked tongue, and sensual wiles. I will have my vengeance, of this I am proud, and you will find your fall, simple yet profound.
I care not for your knowledge. I care not for your magicks. Simple, stupid lore beneath my feet, mulch not fit for crows. No longer am I bound by your potions, your oils dear and fragrance full of fear. I tear thee from my heart, and learn the lesson true; Never suffer a Witch to live.
Cower before me, I mighty and full. Who are you to such as me, thee wicked and untrue; foul heathen with false wisdom, you spend your energies with simple tricks. I was a fool to think, you had vigor
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Literature
The Anariarchs Chessboard
The Anariarchs Chessboard
And so the game begins; opponents sit, each marked with Sins. The wager has been cast, a full moon past; the game will stake a hundred coin, rare and costly for it bears, a ruby red, taken from Angels tears, salt as never-ending sand. I watch them both, drenched with fear, for the game takes its toll, a piece per slice of soul is sheered.
Already weak, both gamers meet; eye to eye, they pause and wait; I offer tonic dear. They drink my brew, their strength renewed, but within their eyes, even Death may die; very serious is the prize.
I hold in my hand, both coins a prize; I now see why, they are highly prized. Each coin is marked with ancient runes, script and scratch, they speak volumes. One is a story, the other holds a poem; both are Psalms, rent from Gods holy palms. Rare, indeed, these coins I hold, I am envious of their owners.
The table is ready, the board is set, both players sit, waiting for their Pawns, their Rooks and Queens, and finally, the King.
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Literature
The Anariarchs Pathogen
The Anariarchs Pathogen
It shall now be heard, from voice so deep, it is profound. I have cooked the Purge, now mighty, yet small. It will be named, only in whispers, known to Tree, Beetle, and Bird; Snakes shall carry it, with their swords.
My reason simple, truly I do say. The world has changed, and so must I. Where before I would have spoken, to each new life upon this earth. Now as babes they are deaf; blind to all that clearly moves, within. Unknown their might, power un-fathomed, and not avail. Simple creatures, they know not, the Plague I unleashed, upon their brows; surely they will wake, and see clear ‘verse. Within them all, rent from clay, mud so plain, lies a secret, terrible and tame. It is this, I shall unlock, and toward the heavens, I shall mock. For I shall release them from their doom, only to find them stale and truly frail.
The Alchemy is simple, yet complex; a paradox, a musing, err it born from simple song; a pen doth writ on parchment clear, as the bell tol
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Hello deviants!
I recently wrote a book about my experiences with bipolar paranoid schizophrenia. One of the book's goal is to bridge the gap between the sane and the otherwise. I include real dreams, hallucinations, and voices I've experienced. I also provide possible coping methods and treatments for schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, mania and go into detail on each condition for average people to understand. If you or your friends suffer from mental illness or would simply like to know more about this particular illness, the book is available on Amazon here: www.amazon.com/Life-Dreams-Hal…

Thank you for your time.
Hello deviants!
I recently wrote a book about my experiences with bipolar paranoid schizophrenia. One of the book's goal is to bridge the gap between the sane and the otherwise. I include real dreams, hallucinations, and voices I've experienced. I also provide possible coping methods and treatments for schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, mania and go into detail on each condition for average people to understand. If you or your friends suffer from mental illness or would simply like to know more about this particular illness, the book is available on Amazon here: www.amazon.com/Life-Dreams-Hal…

Thank you for your time.
Hello deviants!
I recently wrote a book about my experiences with bipolar paranoid schizophrenia. One of the book's goal is to bridge the gap between the sane and the otherwise. I include real dreams, hallucinations, and voices I've experienced. I also provide possible coping methods and treatments for schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, mania and go into detail on each condition for average people to understand. If you or your friends suffer from mental illness or would simply like to know more about this particular illness, the book is available on Amazon here: www.amazon.com/Life-Dreams-Hal…

Thank you for your time.
My sincerest apologies, but due to a final essay intervening in my schedule, I will need one (1) extra day for the judging.
I really dove into the pieces and loved what I found; now I must use a fine-tooth comb in order to draw out a winner.

I apologize again, and thank you for your patience.

~The-Anariarch

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The-Anariarch
Jeff Valdes
United States

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LidiaVives Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2017  Professional Photographer

thx for the fav! :D <3 


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Thank u for the fave!
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Thankss for :+fav:
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Thank you very much too for the :+fav: on The light gift by Sweetlylou and The Sentinel - The end is near by Sweetlylou   :iconloveheartpls:
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Thanks for +faving my dragon sculpture! There are many more handmade dragon figurines in my gallery, if you'd like to take a look. :) (Smile)
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