|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Pandora's BoxAt first I loathed that woman,
Pandora, who released the evils,
Into the world we live in,
And destroyed the human race.
But then I reconsidered,
For she had kept trapped the evil,
Of foresight, and had given us,
The light in the darkness,
The hero in war,
The one who nursed us from birth,
Like a glow in the fog,
Like a numb in the pain,
It is the silver lining on the cloud,
Hope, happiness, haven,
We owe it all to the woman,
Who let out all the horrors, except one,
And became both mankind's villain, and hero.
I Am WinterI warn you, I'm blizzards by the dozen,
Each surface glassy ice and powder snow,
Frost, sleet, hail, and all else that is frozen,
Is all that I am, is all that I know.
It seems that she'd been with me since the bud,
With me before I existed at all,
She said she wanted love, she took my blood,
Her teeth in my vein, she drained all my soul.
Her breath is vanilla, part of her spell,
And I thought it would be mine to keep,
I gave her my heart, she took it as well,
Like slipping into cold eternal sleep.
Lips on mine drank my warmth, she's the hunter,
I'm all that she left me, I am winter.
Breaking Fall The morning rain fell around me, shining slightly in the light of the small sliver of sun that was beginning to peer over from the East. The movie set I was shooting on was located on a picturesque stretch of grassland, which would have appeared like a Garden if Eden of sorts if it wasn't for the plumes of dark grey city-smoke on the horizon. The cross-country train station was completely deserted. Perfect. There was no one to see me, no one to find me, no one to recognise me...
"Mr Parker, Mr Parker!" came the shrill cries of the paparazzi as the world famous movie star fought his way from the set back to his trailer. "Could you answer a few questions?" He ignored the onslaught and pushed his way past the hordes of fans, journalists, and magazine photographers. He didn't need this, not now. He had just received the worst phone call of his life and they wanted him to interrogate him about it? "Will you give us a quote?" He
FearI stand, the night closing around me,
I stare into the dark whirlpool of black,
I feel the cold wind lash at my skin,
I am afraid.
Nowhere to turn,
Nowhere to go,
Lost in the woods,
Stranded in a void of nothingness.
Rustling of leaves,
Frozen I stand,
My heart racing in my chest,
The silence like a thick blanket,
There is a tap on my shoulder.
I force myself to move,
The Garden of EdenAway from the smoke, away I go,
Away from the noise and the black snow.
No more will I labour before a machine,
Instead I'll work outside in the green.
Leaving behind the boring monotony,
I'll go and find a life of beauty,
For I will once again be in freedom,
Like we started, in the Garden of Eden.
I Once Was BeautifulTime, 'tis he who allows the flowers grow,
Then throws them away as dust on the ground,
Time, 'tis he who lets beauty come and go,
When he spins and whirls the seasons around.
He changes the living things in the world,
Steals away from us our looks, our beauty,
Leaving only ancient ruins unfurled,
Though he is doing naught but his duty,
He is no villain, no not in the least,
Only he compels us to learn and grow,
With age comes wisdom, like sun in the East,
He will teach us all we will ever know.
I remember yes, remember I do,
Of a time when my mind was still young,
When I laughed and played in the water blue,
And each and everyday I danced and sung.
I do not resent that he took my youth,
Otherwise I'd be forever a child,
I'd rather be old, and know of truth,
Than live ignorant, juvenile, and wild.
But indeed, for this I have paid a price,
Now my air, my energy has faded,
But no, this exchange has no major vice,
For never will I ever feel jaded.
Now I am aged and may seem pitiful,
Happy EndingsHappy Endings Are Just Fairytales That Haven't Finished Yet
They stand in the courtyard in their finery, the Prince of the land dressed in a majestic black tunic and the daughter of the kingdom's richest Lord draped in the glorious white silks of her gown. The people cheer as they walk past, throwing ribbons and flowers at the newlywed couple. The Prince basks in the attention, smiling and waving at the crowd as he leads his bride toward the castle gates.
It should be me.
It should be me at his side, wearing his ring, spending his wedding night. How many times had he told me that? How many times had he whispered words of love in my ear, telling me that I was the only woman for him, promising that we would be together forever?
And how many times had I believed him.
I should have known, I should have realised that a Prince like him would never marry a common girl like me. But I didn't. Instead, I lived thoughtlessly by his side as his mistress, his paramour, oblivious to the whisp
Bed Time StoryI told this story to my two-and-a-half-year-old sister tonight, and if anyone is wondering who on Earth tells stories like this, just keep in mind that young children enjoy stories of just about any subject matter, as long as it flows and contains elements they like. As for my sister, she likes the planets, bunnies, paintings, and has a habit of memorising names that she hears regularly (say, politicians perhaps).
If you think this is ridiculous, well, just think of it as a very serious postmodern stream-of-consiousness piece.
You know how Mercury is a rocky ball? Well it's very small, so small in fact that it was carried by a bunny. The bunny and Mercury decided to journey to Saturn where they met a television who told them that a bird was going to land on Pluto. And then another bunny joined them, so the two bunnies, the television, and Mercury went to Pluto, where they found the bird that was landing and it was an eagle. They also found a Kevin Rudd Memorial Bunny and a Tony Abbott
Shall I Repent?They tell me my execution is near,
As I stand before you, before this cross,
I've no regrets for what I've done, you hear?
I tell you, you should go, you'll have no loss,
You sit Father, and I tell you I've sinned,
But no, I ask not for your forgiveness,
My soul's already scattered in the wind,
And I've not a care for your holiness.
To repent, I hear you asking from me,
Then I'll have a chance to hear Heaven's song,
But no, I prefer Hell to purity,
Never will I give up the thrill of wrong.
Between sin and faith, you choose the latter,
But I know that sin feels much, much better.
The Truth The Truth
See, the funny thing with people
They like to create things
But they don't like to look
Upon their creation.
See, the funny thing with people
They like to make messes
But not clean them up.
See, the funny thing with people
I'd Rather Be I'd Rather Be
You like the mountains, I love the sea
You like the cold, I like to be
Out in the sunlight, where it's warm.
You like clear skies, I chase storms.
You prefer lush valleys, while I
Ride a blimp in the sky.
You like your eggs poached; mi
It's FunnyYou know, it's funny.
I never saw myself as one of those girls
That write creepy letters like this.
But alas, I am one of those girls,
I don't mean to sound weird.
I don't mean to sound like a stalker.
I don't mean to sound obsessed with you.
I guess I'm just lonely.
The day you left me
Sitting on the grass;
The wind dancing in my hair,
I didn't know what to do.
What could I do?
What was there for me?
Anyways, you need your rest.
It's very late
And you must be exhausted from putting up with me.
Go on. Sleep.
Wake up to the birds singing happily.
Wake up to a new day.
Wake up to a fresh start.
Live the mirror image of my life.
hollowjust forget about making sense already,
words leave your lips
scattered and broken, unfulfilled.
libermy heart is screaming may-day, "i need to
get out of here, out
i am smudged out ink on a paper,
water running down
dirty car windows.
a broken elevator, stuck
(bury your heart where it won't find
an escape route, let it
pound, like a prisoner
shaking the bars,
and never let it out
"don't wear your pain too proudly",
they said, "hide
like the demon you truly are.")
i am the missing page in a dusty novel
from 1932, forgotten words
SeptemberBut September eases its way
up the beach like incoming tide, doesn't it?
I imagine the idea of plans, pushed back school and
new, I mean, actual nice new clothes that will feel
pressed and important the way I'll feel
pressed and important when
I'm not knowing this kind of important
is almost like death because
most everybody gets there at some point.
And assholes being assholes and
the last three years repeating themselves minus two weeks
one last time.
I feel like I should feel the remorse I've been bracing myself for
for the last three years but it's not there.
Only September inching forward with a friendly reminder
that the cold is coming again.
"Amends" chapter 6A/N: Well geez, I really, really apologize that that last update took so long. I'm already in my senior year now .work work work. Gotta prepare for my future job, ya know. Anyway, here goes! brick'd-
Disclaimer: I don't own the Star Ocean series, and in regards to the previous chapter, I don't own THE iDOLMASTER either! brick'd-
And frankly, I wouldn't know if Roak has Earth's tarot system (which ironically, I don't really believe in tarot readings xD;; ). I just set it this way for convenience and to sort of keep Eleyna in character xD;
What It Means to Make Amends
Total Eclipse of the H e a r t
As the sun rose over Tropp, Eleyna Farrence
Lady DeathThey think Death is the Reaper,
Carrying his scythe,
Able to disappear into vapour,
Like a shadow in light.
But no, Death takes the shape,
Of a person, a woman at that,
With a pitch black cloak a flowing cape,
A crucifix of coal, and grace like a cat.
On rhinestone boots she treads the land,
With midnight eyes she tracks her prey,
A spear of onyx in her hand,
Her hair of ink soaking up every sun's ray.
She dons a studded ebonite vest,
With denim of iron sitting on her hip
A blood stained cutlass at her wrist,
Rings of beryl through her lip.
Her ears are pierced with needle sharp bone,
Her eyelids smudged with ash,
Her mouth a deep, blood-red tone,
the colour of night on each eyelash.
So who is this Queen of Darkness?
Who can she be?
An answer finally comes to a question ageless.
Death, is me.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More