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ShatteredShe remembers it now; there’s blood (oh yes she can remember the blood thick and red and sticky and dead) and pain (it’s what she is made of now what she will be) and the feeling of something inside her mind snapping like a guitar string (it’s a musical sound almost pretty she takes care of it and remembers the sound of unrepairable) shattering and bleeding and disappearing in tiny supernovas that leave behind a strange urge to smile and the icy knowledge that this is what she is; shattered.
She smiles into the darkness, eyes open but unable to see (they took care of that they did), arms wrapped around her torso and legs (at least the one she can move without pain she is pain why) pressed against her chest.
They turn on the light but it’s not them and she blinks as her eyes try to adjust to the brightness (it hurts so but she missed it why did she not remember) and they’re strangers (she doesn’t think she can trust them but her body is limp and her m
Love is CruelLove is cruel.
There is no doubt in my mind about this. Love is as cruel as it is kind.
It is the curve of her jaw and the silhouette of her face I study the most. she is lovely, free and happy as a bird and with the depth and beauty of a mountain lake 'neath a full moon. Sometimes the secretive veil of darkness pulls back and I am allowed to look at what resides deep down. I am captured; mesmerised by these brief glimpses of what makes her her.
I hang on to her words and her beautiful accent more than I let show. She is important to me; far more so than she knows. When she speaks I listen.
I love her. Fully and with all my heart, I love her. I do not know if she feels the way I do, but I pray she does. Love unreturned is a slow poison.
How BarrenHow barren, this land
Once home to thousands
How empty, these hands
Begging for food
How silent, the pantheon
Sworn to protect them
How unjust, the fate
Assigned to the poor
MonochromeA garden clad in darkness
With shadows all around
A beating heart of blackened stone
With veins of rubies crowned
A moving star crossing skies alone
The day is dead, the night has come
Vanilla swirls in bowls of blood
A taste of wild and tame
A figure in a darkened hood
Never quite the same
A howling moon so far away
The desert crawls with life today
Swimming in the river deep
An ancient beast is deep asleep
Buried treasure 'neath the tree
Not for mortal eyes to see
A pen on paper, scratching words
Monochrome, a page of blurs
Light in darkness, shining weak
Frightened children for it seek
Yet, once the fleeting light is found
Cold ashes resting on the ground
Sunrise over mountains high
A painter gives a grateful sigh
Quiet reigns where sound should be
A storm is raging silently
The scratching stops, the paper curls
A hand no longer with us furls
Whispers the WindWhispers the wind
In the hours of day
O'er the noise
Of life, as it passes
Whispers the wind
In the hours of night
In the silence
Of dark, as it passes
Whispers the wind
In the hours between
In changing light
And sound, as it rests
LightA being at the very edge of his vision was kneeling over the fallen human. It was weaving strands of glimmering light in a web over her chest, the thin threads passing through each other and sticking in seemingly random places as she worked. The fine weave pulsed gently as it hovered just above her chest save for where the being had delicately pressed one fingertip down to attach it to the dead woman. The being then wove the connected strands into each other, and soon one thin fiber of light was attached to each of the fingertips on her right hand. She raised her hand then, gathering the strands and gently pressing them to the palm of her hand before spreading her fingers out again, letting her hand hover in the air for a few moments. The body was lifted off the ground, only a few inches, as if the little light threads were puppet strings. The strands of light glowed brighter and the world seemed to hold its breath when she brought her hand down, fingers still spread and palm flat. The
Grey and silverIn a world of grey and silver
Colours muted by the fog
I stand silent in the snowscape
With a smile of grateful joy
I see the hidden beauty
In a bleak and quiet day
The lack of sound is calming
Wish it could stay this way
This landscape that I tell of
Is never far away
As fog and frost still rule the world
You'll see it too
I promise you
There Are SeashellsSoft sunlight
And the sound of waves
It’s a beautiful sight
So different from his
Final resting place
There are seashells here
Peacock BlueThe sky is blue. It’s a beautiful shade, the colour of peacock feathers. I stand on a green hill underneath a blue sky and smile at the warm, yellow sunlight.
A gentle breeze rustles in the leaves and tousles the long grass as I close my eyes. Soft footsteps sound behind me, slightly out of sync with the wind. That’s how I hear her.
She comes to stand beside me on the hill, and her top is a link between the sky and the grass, beautiful and green-blue. She smiles at me and I smile back.
“Thunderstorm’s coming,” she says. I nod.
We stand together and watch torn clouds the colour of bruised lead close over the peacock blue sky. Somewhere lightning flashes, the momentary flare of light illuminating her face and making her features stand out in sharp relief. I take her hand.
We will weather this storm together. Because behind wild clouds of bruised lead there is a sky the colour of peacock feathers and a warm, yellow sun.
Good Morning, Crystal Beach! (Request)
“Good Morning, Crystal Beach! Today, it looks like it will be smokin’ hot at 92°, so don’t forget to put on some sunscreen, hit the beach, and enjoy yourselves! With that being said, continue to enjoy the rest of this fine morning by listening to these summer classics on 93.8 Platinum.”
I groan as I get out of bed. Besides not having a good night’s sleep, I’ll also have to endure an entire day of heat. Shrugging, I turn off my radio and head off to my kitchen.
As I make myself some breakfast, I decide on what I want to do. I could always stick it out inside by watching TV or browsing the internet, but then again, I’ve been quite the shut-in lately. I haven’t seen or talked to my friends lately, nor have I gone out just to have fun.
I look out of my window, and I sigh. Though I don’t live right on the beach, it’s only about
Derrick considered the question carefully, “a maternity store of some sort?”
Keeping her attention to driving Charlie shook her head slightly. She smugly grinned, “No, you’d think they would be a good place to go, but usually not.”
“Alright, I give up?” he shrugged.
“Guess!” Charlie insisted.
“I did, I got it wrong.” Derrick smiled helplessly at Charlie.
“You only took one guess! Alright, a clue,” Charlie narrowed her eyes conspiratorially, “it’s ironically named.”
Derrick stared blankly back at Charlie in the driving seat. “Ironically named? What’s that suppose to mean?”
Charlie sighed. She repeated her clue, “It’s IRONICALLY named.” She stressed the word ‘ironically’ and then looked over to Derrick as if comprehension would suddenly blossom. It did not.
He favored her with a sour stare. “That’s not really helping, I heard you the
The Quiet Car
“All aboard train 42 bound for Washington!” yelled the conductor. I ran down the station platform. I can’t miss this! It’s the last train of the day, and I’d have to walk otherwise!
I jumped onto the doorway just as the train begun to move. The conductor looked at me with a bit of a frown, but it was nothing a $10 bill couldn’t fix. “Right this way, sir,” she motioned me as she pocketed the money. “Would you prefer a general seat or to sit in our new quiet section of the train?”
A quiet section? That sounds awesome! I had so much work to get done on the train, so an area without babies or children would be lovely. “Quiet please,” I said.
“OK, please remember no cell phones or loud discussions,” she said leading me to the car on the far end of the car. Inside were all girls, but it was nothing I hadn’t seen before – girls tended to like quieter areas. But, wait… No cell phones… th
Spain X Reader Can We Keep it
Spain X Reader Can We Keep it
“Pretty please, with a cherry on top”
“For the last time Antonio NO and I don’t like cherries”
You were just hanging out in the living room of your shared apartmentwhen your boyfriend Antonio came in ambling about something. By the time you got him to calm down you noticed something in his hands. It was a turtle. Naturally he wanted to keep it but you can’t.
“Please, I promise I will take good care of it” he pleads
“A big tank, tools to clean it, food, and money for veterinary visits” you list
“A portion of the requirements needed to take care of a turtle” you inform
He smiles again.
“Don’t worry, I can handle it”
Just as you expected Antonio was having a hard time. The first problem was that the tank he bough
ShipsDo you know why its a bad idea for ships to travel side by side over the sea?
They sat side by side, husband and wife, not touching. She sat perched on the edge of the sofa, as though she was scared to come into contact with anything solid. He, on the other hand, lay so far back that he was almost flat, as though hoped that the cushions would swallow him. He was wrapped in a blanket (he was always cold these days) whereas she just looked cold. Not as if she was cold, but as if she radiated it, as though it was some sort of negative heat. Neither of them looked at each other. They both acted as though the TV was their entire world.
The motion of the waves acts on the outer edge of each of the two ships.
"Do you still love me?" she said suddenly. He didn't reply. This wasn't particularly surprising, as she had been dead for a year now. She sighed, and he wriggled deeper under his blanket.
But the really interesting part is that each of the ships acts as a natural shield
A Letter from your SongsAnother oldie... Not a poem this time, but a letter written to song artist Stevie Nicks, (who has been a favorite of mine and a big inspiration to me for a very long time...since my teen years).
The letter is written to her using her songs. (which are shown in bold)
Has anyone ever written anything for you?
I have, and I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for: The beginning of The dance. For being there at the Edge of seventeen of my life. For showing me the sparkling beauty of the Silver spring. For the contrast of Leather and lace . For introducing me to Sarah. For embracing the world within your Dreams . For knowing your Destiny : and being the Kind of woman that you are; giving, Unconditional love. Even though Outside the rain wreaked
Scooby Doo and Shaggy VS Animatronics: Battle
The Mystery Machine was driving down a bleak road in the middle of the forest. Shaggy and Scooby had to do all of the Mystery Solving, since the rest of the gang was on a vacation. They were looking for a rest stop, or, at least, a place to eat. Scooby had eaten all of their food for the trip.
"Jeez, Scoob, why do I have a feeling this might be more difficult without Fred, Daphine, and Velma?"
"Raggy, look, a sign!"
The sign spoke of an exit, about half a mile away. Shaggy stopped for a minute and examined the sign.
"On exit five, turn left, and you will find a small town, home of Freddy Fazbear's pizzerea. This famed Pizza restaurant makes some of the best Pizza 'round. Though make sure to leave by closing, as the restaurant is not responsible for any dismemberment and mutilation."
Scooby ran up to the window closest to Shaggy.
"Rid you say Pizza?"
"Yeah, Scoob! Let's go there, and besides, I wasn't paying attention at that last part anyways!"
Shaggy leapt into the front seat, and sta
Wizards in Training (TG) (Request)(WARNING: This story contains descriptions of a man turning into a woman. If this puts you off, feel free to pass this up.)
The Pogona Institution for the Magically Inclined; call it your real-world Hogwarts equivalent if you will. This was a prestigious college, located in far off in the Canadian wilderness, surrounded by lush forests and mirror-like lakes, beyond which the snow-covered mountains rise to dominate the skyline. The college itself was not unlike your modern campus grounds, only it featured more of an elegant decor than most other public educational establishments. Despite the absolutely beautiful view, this school was particularly private, and only those who prove themselves to be truly capable of wielding arcane forces are allowed to enter. This process is full of all sorts of challenges and troubles, but some people manage to make it in by the skin of their neck. Two such people are new students Aaron and Bennett, who had just enrolled a week ago.
Caliban's DreamThe music flows through the air, curling and twisting like invisible smoke. I inhale it and feel it settle in my chest as the drums play joyfully with the rythm of my heart and the music. A voice breaks through, whispering and caressing as the colorful invisible smoke spreads in my blood, filling my body with pulsing life. I hum with the music, my whole body lost in the swirling tones that flow and curl and hum all around and in me. It is almost painful, the power of a simple song. I thrum and pulse with the music as it stretches into eternity, an infinite amount of time squeezed into a few short minutes. I rejoice in the feeling of life. I know the song is over soon, and when it ends, the hard, cold real world will come back. I close my eyes and cling to the colorful humming life in and around me, desperately holding on to another world, one made of music and color, where dreams are true and imagination is the master.
Red Riding HoodI want to believe people so badly when they say they won’t bite
that I contemplate climbing into their smiling jaws
thinking that it might be better to be split in two than left hanging.
But always, I draw my red hood and flit back into the forest
running in the shadows of pathways, never stepping into clearings
because I’ve spent my whole life in the wilderness
and I still can’t tell the wolves from the woodsmen.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More