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WWC2: The Loreithian Heritage - Ch. 3Luciana stared up at the large steel structure in the distance. It resembled a metal mountain, with peaks and valleys, but there were also strange twists and turns. A whooshing sounded, causing her to startle. She jumped back as a skinny snake-like thing flew over the top. The screams of the roller-coaster's riders could be heard, their arms flailing as they turned upside-down and continued on their way.
"Neat, huh?" Danny said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
It had been quite a walk from the car, but they could now see the entrance of the amusement park up ahead. The princess sucked in a ragged breath. She had told Danny that she would go on whatever ride he wanted, but now she was having second thoughts.
"Do they have anything that goes a bit...slower?"
"They have a trolley, and a merry-go-round, and whirl-a-gig."
The girl cocked her head.
His mouth turned downward. "Didn't you ever go to a carnival when you were on Earth before?"
WWC2: The Loreithian Heritage - Ch. 2 Sara 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."
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.
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.
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
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
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.
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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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