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WWC2: The Loreithian Heritage - Ch. 2Sara stood by the ledge of the rooftop garden, her eyes fixed on the darkened lake in the distance. Even though the lights of the city glared, the way the water shimmered brought her back to Loreithia, to the last night she and Fariet had spent together. He had taken her to lake that bordered Elekville, where all was quiet and serene. They had dined on roasted pheasant and berries, and he had read her elven poetry. Then they had made love under the moonlight.
Pushing the memory aside, she chastised herself. That was a lifetime ago. Why did she hold on to the memories so strongly?
Deep down she knew the answer, but didn't want to admit it to herself.
A whooshing sound filled the air and her gaze shifted from the water, downwards towards the street. She gasped as a figure came into view, slowly rising to her level.
Resin adjusted his jetpack so that he cleared the wrought-iron railing and landed next to her. He flashed a wide smile. "Hey."
Biting her lip, Sara forced a smile back. "Hey.
A Thousand Paper CranesAs I lay down to rest,
my wishes of hope take flight on the
wings of a thousand paper cranes
I’ll live now forever more.
Beautiful RuinAs I live and breath your darkness,
I am haunted by your dark desires,
Blinded by your detestation,
I am your most beautiful ruin.
In this beautiful ruin,
I will continue to exist,
Forever lamenting the loss
of my sweet innocence.
And in the sorrow that I miss,
I will not rest in this fading light,
Finding the strength to save me,
I will never rest until I set it right.
The chains that haunt me forever binding,
So fragile in the ruins of a haunted passing,
All alone in the dark with no one to guide me,
Wishing to turn back the pages of this haunting tale.
Yet against all odds,
I will turn this into a fairy tale ending.
Frozen in TimeHer hopes and dreams are frozen in time
Trapping the sadness that clouds her mind
The trust she had is no more
She longs for what did go before
Frozen tears shatter on dreary floors.
Memories into a million pieces.
They melt and are no more,
leaves a stain, a mark of pain
and still the frozen tears fall.
Lost and FoundIt was a cold, dark night. The soft pitter patter of rain hit the stone ground and little drips of water splashed into the small cardboard box he had made his home. A soft sigh escaped his throat. How long has it been since he last had a nice meal? One week? Maybe two? He didn't know anymore. They had left him, all alone. He moved so his back was to the rain, curling up around himself to try to keep warm. He closed his eyes, hoping to escape into a dream where life was still happy and nice and good. Sleep caught him quick, even though his stomach rumbled and his throat was dry. He licked his lips as he dreamt of the good things that happened in his imaginary world.
Ah yes...Mumsie. So warm and caring, loving him even as he batted at and nipped at her tail. Well-fed and with no thirst in his throat--warm, cosy and dry. He opened his eyes to look up at her, but saw only darkness, the sounds of rain returning. The dream was no more, only dreadful reality.
The soft pitter patter turned to
WWC2: The Loreithian Heritage - Ch. 1
"Mom, wake up. Mom!"
Sara rolled over and threw her arms over her eyes to shield them from the sunlight steaming in through the crack in the curtains. "What..?" she asked, disoriented.
"You said you'd come to the game. C'mon, it's almost noon. You have to get up."
Blinking twice, Sara turned and stared at the neon red numbers on her clock: 11:52. Propping up on her arm, she groaned as her back protested the action.
Danny narrowed his eyes towards her in reprimand. "Were you out as Dark Flame last night?"
The boy's reaction might have made Sara smile at a different time, but another pain shot through her arm and she was just too tired for humor. "Yes, I was," she droned. "I had to help your uncle with a jewelry store robbery."
"Well you have to get up. We need to leave soon. Grampa's making eggs down in the kitchen. C'mon." Pulling on her arm, the boy helped her to a
I am a MouseI am a mouse.
I am quiet, I am nothing.
I am a book that nobody has read.
I am an eclipsed sun and a cloaked moon.
I am irrelevant and unwanted, a broken toy in an attic.
I am the dust in your rear-view mirror that you leave behind.
I am the air that you breathe in and spit out as something different.
I am the palest white. I am the darkest black. I am the dullest, emptiest grey.
I am the old man with forgotten memories and the baby who has yet to make them.
I am a forgotten word, dangling on the tip of your tongue, hanging on the noose of your lips.
I am a dried up stream. I am a felled forest. I am an abandoned cornucopia of resolute nothingness.
And there is Hell burning in my eyes.
PainParalized by the suffering
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
A void within meAlone on this inhospitable night, once again
I let my memories guide my lost steps,
Wandering amid the ghosts of my past.
As I walk along the quay,
I stare at the feeble Seine flowing:
She's dying by the street lamps' hands
While the whole city asphyxiates.
Reflecting my own lack of humanity
Over the river's lighted surface,
Griefs come and go at the water's rhythm.
Once again, on this breathtaking night,
My feelings are sealed and my chest hollow.
Purple rain, chills of cold.... Or regret? I crave
My musical drug, my remaining salvation,
Spreading a sweet poison within me and
Eroding the remaining happiness I still have.
I plug my headphones...
A grin of relief appears on my weary face,
I flee to lenient lands, where a familiar Angel tucks me in.
These notes of violin split the immutable silence,
Fill the hole in, lit a bonfire to my soul.
This mermaid sings my dreams to me,
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
you talk like a travestyoh, mercury boy, you can't
write your way out of this
body or out of this mind;
you can pray like it's high-fashion,
insist you're only burning yourself out
(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)
if only for murky mirrors &
silver cicadas caught
in your ribcage, you've
got a knack for decaying
The PointIt’s the taste of cake mix on the spoon, that first time you ‘help’ bake a cake.
It’s seeing the bright world afresh after a dark nightmare, when you first wake.
It’s when you make them laugh and, in that moment, everyone loves a clown.
It’s when your heart stops before the roller coaster plummets down, down.
It’s when the lights go out before your favourite band plays and you scream.
It’s that moment you look around and everything’s perfect enough to be a dream.
It’s the anticipation of waiting for a new episode of your favourite television show.
It’s the first time you listen to your favourite record and you just sort of know.
It’s reading a book cover-to-cover and a million times more and still crying at the ending.
It’s the stiff, tight, real feeling of a smiling scab as you watch the wound mending.
It’s when you first meet your best friend and you hate each other (but in a good way).
california wintersthe tears
I rationed have all
run out. Tuesday comes
up behind me and steals
my breath; my cat snores.
she can’t sleep soundly
since she lost her seventh
life. I’m like that, I’m always
worried someone will try to steal
what I’ve already given away.
I miss color. newsprint sobs
washed me out. I am a
blank canvas, I am a faceless,
I am one
of you. I wake up sweating
and it’s winter and I can’t
sleep because my memories
follow me between my sheets;
jake still won’t listen.
we never knew we were the
lucky ones, we scarred, too. don’t
touch me. don’t want
me, don’t bare my bones
when you think I’m not
watching. I’m afraid of
myself. breathing loud
enough that others know
I exist; you follow me,
needing, laughing, it’s
a game. who has lost
the most, we all want
to win; I’m so tired, so scared,
there’s no one in the world
who sees me. I can’t cry.
we’re in a drought.
From Dust to DreamsLocked in a world of darkness,
My dreams are my only escape.
Sometimes I fear sleeping
But when I do, I dream of stars
Dreams can set one free
Locked in a desolate world
Hidden away from the light
Seeking the joy of freedom
My dreams are the true key
As I sleep, they are bright and vivid
Prayers that guide
Wishes that give hope
Shining as luminous stars
They are treasures to be cherished
Precious, no longer tears and dust.
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
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