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The broken windThe broken wind
of yonder hill
caresses me forcefully,
tipping me over the edge.
I fall into the abyss,
at the broken wind
that pushed me.
I want to live;
it wants me to lose.
I give in, and
am no longer myself.
Forgotten I stare up at the world like I always do. A world full of colorful skies and places ever changes as time moves on. If I am lucky, I can glimpse grass or snow in my peripheral vision. There is only one thing I have never seen, but I do not know if it even exists to be seen. I have only heard about it from you.
Throughout the years, I change just like everything else does, just like you do. However, you do not notice my changes as often as I notice yours. You gradually age and grow taller, but I am constantly changing.
You played with me when you were a child. As years went on, you played with me less and less until you forgot about me entirely. We are no longer the friends we once were. Our relationship is one of a leader and a follower. Wherever you go, I must follow. I have no will of my own anymore. Though, I might not have had one to begin with. I go where you go. I do what you do. No questions asked. I am always with you, but you forgot about me. I am forgotten
A flame burns
in my heart
a passionate way.
-Please, don't leave-
But, as time
slowly passes by,
It fades away.
And I forget
it was ever...
Kiss of PoisonKiss of Poison
You jerk! I HATE you! she screamed at me.
What did I do wrong? I asked, confused.
Like you dont know! You broke my heart, and now youre going to pay. Oteru kisera ando unten posin! There! Now you are cursed for the rest of your life! Tears streamed down her face as she ran away.
Now, for the first time in five years-has it really been that long? - I see her again. Her long platinum hair makes rays of sunshine down her back. Her skin is the color of sand. She uses the voice of a Siren as she talks to the librarian. As she turns around, I notice her sea-blue eyes. How could I have ever let her leave me, I wonder. She walks right past me and does not show any signs of recognition. Hi. Sierra, how have you been? I politely ask.
Who are you? And how do you know my name? she demands, slamming her hands on the table.
My name is Angel, m
A Modern KnightA Modern Knight
Ding dong! Ding dong! "Lilia, Chris is here!" my mom shouts as she opens the front door. I hear the creak of the steps and then the pounding on my door. My mom stops knocking and asks," May I come in?" I allow her to enter while I stare in the mirror and see myself, a girl with a heart-shaped face, eyes the color of dead grass, and pale blond hair that falls halfway down my back. I'm suddenly nervous; this is going to be my first "real" date with Chris. The handsome Chris, I think, with his brown hair and eyes the color of the sky at midnight. I gather my purse and take a quick glance at the mirror to check my hair and outfit one more time. I race down the steps and spot Chris. Chris is too busy looking at the many pictures and books that fill the bookshelves; he doesn't notice me until I embrace him from behind. After I unclasp my hands, Chris pivots around. He grabs my hand and kisses it, like a noble night that just rescued a princ
Masque of Red Death Prompt"The Masque of the Red Death"
If you are reading this, then I have already passed on. How? Well, you'll have to read on to find out. This is the story of the massacre at Prince Prospero's masquerade.
It was the time of the dictatorship of the "Red Death." Many were killed by its horrible ways. It was during this time that Prince Prospero summoned a thousand friends. I was the daughter of one of the knights and dames of his court, so I went with my parents. We took refuge from the "Red Death'" in one of his castles. We were separated from the outside world and the "Red Death."
The Prince threw a grand masquerade party at the end of the fifth or sixth month. It was held in an imperial suite that consisted of seven apartments. Each room had a unique color. None of the rooms had any lighting; the light came from braziers that shone through the gothic windows of each apartment. The windows were the same color as the rooms they were in. The only exception was the black room
The Family Has Been InformedBullets that are too far away to hear back home
But words that will forever ring just as loud in my ears
Delivered from the lips of a uniformed man
The sympathetic sentence any mother fears to hear
I turn away as if ignoring his presence
Will make this unwanted reality go away
But he repeats that he is sorry for my loss
Those words are the last thing I remember of that day
I find myself looking out of the back yard window
On the swings in the garden I still see my boy play
I am bringing drinks out to him and his brothers
Under the sun, on the grass, on endless summer days
Those memories like photographs in frames on the wall
Now show my son with a wife and child of his own
A husband and father torn from their loving arms
In to the mass grave-in-waiting of a war zone
His old bedroom was already a shrine to him
Even before his blood soaked deep in to the desert sands
We waited for him to return from his first tour
Knowing the boy we’d said goodbye to would come home a man
Young JanuaryI saw her at the local supermarket
She could have been no older than ten
She was buying some refreshing beverages
To quench the thirst of herself and her friends
On this summers day they had waited outside
Lacking patience they were shouting her name
‘January, hurry up we have to go home!’
From the shop young January soon came
Rushing past me at the speed of her childhood
My lonely heart skipped a beat or two
Either from her soft brown hair that touched my arm
Or the smile she gave as she passed through
Did I hurry through my shopping on purpose
In order to catch young January up?
Fumbling my loose change as I left the store
The cashier complained I’d given her too much
I feel everyone’s eyes boring in to me
So away from the store I swiftly fled
Knowing fine well that I should just return home
But something made me follow the girl instead
Pretending to read the receipt in my hand
I watched closely in the corner of my eye
Which way would young January be walking
31. FlowerYou, my love, are like a flower:
Delicate petals in heavy gale
Facing shower after shower
Of icy rain, snow and hail.
Delicate petals in heavy gale
Caught in winter's deadly cling
Of icy rain, snow and hail
Still you'll bloom in spring again.
Caught in winter's deadly cling
Facing shower after shower
Still you'll bloom in spring again:
You, my love, are like a flower.
LegacyIt is always the damn same song.
Always are the wrong people strong.
Why do they think that your way is wrong?
You’re asking yourself what is left when you’re gone.
Your whole world starts to spin.
Their skin and nerves are very thin.
Want to use you like a soldier made of tin.
When you know the only thing you can do is win.
Want to sort out because you differ.
If you don’t do as they say, they’ll get stricter.
They don’t want to see you as the victor.
The only thing left will be a picture.
When everything you see and hear is a conspiracy.
And everyone thinks that you are crazy.
You are unique, only once in this galaxy.
The words you say and things you do are your legacy.
The Cold, Hard TruthThere are no happy endings,
the fairy tales all lied.
Cinderella is still a slave,
Snow White, the Beast, and the Mermaid died.
Sleeping Beauty never woke,
Because Philip never kissed her,
Alice didn't find Wonderland,
the Rabbit must have missed her.
Peter's still in Neverland
with the Lost Boys, growing older.
The Snow Queen's heart didn't thaw,
the world keeps getting colder.
Rapunzel is still in her tower,
her long blonde hair gone gray.
The captive princess has lost hope,
there was no prince to save the day.
Falling StarsTwinkle, twinkle, the stars fall down
Down into the ocean, where we shall drown
Over and over until we awake
In a place, where we will break.
Your tears are the stars and your smile the sun
There is no happiness, for sorrow has begun.
Run, run, child! Run away now!
Please do not do this! Please do not allow —
Bang! Bang! The gun goes off.
So, child, let those stars takeoff.
My Spyro AnthologyA Spyro Tanka
Caring and faithful
Yet relentless and mighty
Destined for greatness
A Cynder Tanka
Gifted black dragon
Turned away from the dark side
Our hero's lover
Though swift, lethal and fearful
She hates her bad self
A Dragonkind Haiku
Civilized and meaningful
Home to all of them
A Spyro and Cynder Acrostic
Special and so
You never know what he can do with his
Of fire, electricity, earth, and ice
Along with a former
Nemesis from the
Nightmare to our hero's
Dear with so much to
Endure as she
Rages with wind, poison, fear, and shadow
A Malefor Acrostic
Means to bring
A dark age
Leaving us for dead
Evil spirits living
Forever in a world
Of empty space
Ruled by a corrupt
Spyro's Dark Destruction
He was cute and sweet when you first knew him
Now that he has grown
His strength is unknown
On his enemies with huge obsessions
The fire he breathes is filled with aggressio
Queen of NeverthenAtop the ashen bones, arrayed like thrones of Men
Sits none so dreary as the Queen of Neverthen
Great cobwebs, dust, and stolid, stale decay
Dead memories forgotten where they lay
A world, still and ever gray
That suffocates the ones who trespass in her den
Within a rotten skull, a fetid rat emerged
As swift as plague it bore and chittered as it surged
Low creaks and clatters sound akin to life
Its rodent teeth soon grinding like a knife
The Queen was happy with this strife
But nothing ever lasts save those who would be purged
Oppressive silence soon returns to her domain
Admiring her flock that she will never deign
A dull light shines behind their pallid masks
The company of corpses; all she asks
OldOne learns in life that there's nothing to be learned.
That once you won everything there is nothing to be earned.
That all your lessons in life were unconcerned.
Memories and pictures in the attic must now be burned.
One thinks that there is nothing to think about.
Because the things they think are now allowed.
Because they are stuck when they want to be unbound.
When they want to lift themselves off the ground.
You'd never thought your young heart could grow old
And when the unspoken truth is being told,
You're labeling them as bold, heartless or cold.
You're scared of death. After all it's foretold.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More