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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
Unable to loveMy love was pure
I only wanted
But my heart
Because my love
Like a piece of garbage
And now I'm unable
Because the shreds
Of my shattered soul
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
Abuse Is Sometimes NecessaryPush and pull at her long hair, topple her to the solid ground,
elbow her sharply in the raw gut, shove her harshly around.
Scratch him in the pale face, punch him in the broken jaw,
do anything necessary to him that's considered breaking the law.
And when she cries because you've punched her, let her be,
and observe her when she returns to her habitual smoking.
When she passes out next day, because she's drunken too much booze,
slap her in the face once more, though many would consider it abuse.
When he can hardly walk because he thinks he's high in the clouds,
rip the needle out of his arm, and with your nails, slash him across the sweaty brow.
Grab them and shake them till their battered and bruised,
tear at their heart, scream in their ears until you've reached the point of verbal abuse.
And when she falls into your chest, and he collapses to the ground,
pull them closely, and whisper, “We can turn this all around.”
And rehab is a necessity for all of you, because you'v
ScienceI am more than my
F L A W S;
a masterpiece of
S C A R S
a delicacy of
D R E A M S
a sculpture of
B O N E S
R E A C T I O N
a well of
Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)
I hope the title caught your eye,
because this is about you.
Many of us speak in superlatives
and ambiguous language.
In imagery-laden text masquerading
underneath double entendres
keeping us from a part of the truth.
But purple streaks and red bands,
harp strings and soft hands
don't begin to explain
the love I have for you.
So I lay these words down
simple in its vulnerability,
blemished and raw in its purity.
The term lissome fits you in many ways,
but not necessarily it its textbook form.
I speak on the part that is not readily seen
but what is easily most cogent.
Your consciousness' cognizance
is graceful in the way
you fold one syllable over
another, supple in its meaning
that can take many forms
going from idle lies
to how we idolize hollow eyes
and uncovered hip bones.
Elegance is an understatement,
but I refuse to speak in cliche superlatives.
I speak honestly
but not with exaggerated grandeur.
Because your immediate app
i am made of nights like theseativan boy, you cannot empty out this skull -
not with a pen nor with a bullet. you can
be my hallowed head(case) for spitting out
words like teeth; oh, but i will only love you
when you're weary. i will keep crows caged
between your lungs like veins, like palpitations.
i will rot you through bones & car radios,
but i will never get (you) out of your skin.
A broken heartI promised myself I'll never fall in love
Whenever I fall in love I feel renewed and happy
But like a drug
Once everything finishes
I'm crying, depressed and the wreckage of my heart
I always end up feeling worse
I want to find someone that is special
But I'm afraid to suffer again
I'm afraid of losing another person
Do not want to suffer
Do not make me suffer, do not lie to me
Do not hurt me, no more
I will not hold on to people who only sink me
I'll be free and live with have left
A cold and lonely spirit.
Why Do You Still Believe?I used to wonder how one could believe in a God who oppresses?
Who controls you, who uses you, whose unbreakable laws can lead to serious depression.
I wondered this because I know what it's like to be failed,
to be “abandoned” by God, and to be thrown in a personal hell.
But than I grew older and learned how to cope,
I learned that believing in God was like holding a tethered rope.
So I looked to the world and was surprised by what I had seen.
Together the believers were holding onto a broken string.
On the top of the rope God holds on tightly,
and towards the bottom, the believers cling to the Almighty.
Through oppression, through injustice bestowed upon them by God,
they refuse to release their grip, as their faith is stronger than their distrust of God.
Because God does not oppress, nor does He use or impose ridiculous laws,
it is humans who do this, never has it been God.
So they still believe in Him when they're murdered for their faith,
when they're bombed beca
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.
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