| Here's an old one. I haven't been in a mood that could possibly produce this in years. To give you an idea, the story I'm currently working on features a near-decapitation, a mass cremation, and ends with over a hundred thousand people dying in an explosion. Here's the fun part; two of those actually happened. P.S. The story I'm writing is for the Magical Muse contest. Check it out! |
*kodama
Smells Like a LlamaSong of the Flower, v.2
Newest
Of Landslides and StreetlampsSpiral out of this, my Friend, please try to understand. Our moments are not measured by a grain of falling sand. Earth's tremor has sealed shut your eye; Night's sky shall take your hand, When every glance of Passer-by Is a deadly, silken strand. The setting sun calls out your nameOf Landslides and Streetlamps
by *kodama
Death March in White Earth-Bound:Death March in White
"We were whole once!" he cried, "from days forgot." In grasses green We clad our feet A wreath of clouds Our crown
"When we were made kings over forest and field." Of all who slept On this man's ground &
by *kodama
Entreaty to the SirenSiren, my soulful one, Steady your song. Siren, my soulful one, String me along.Entreaty to the Siren
Discordant the chimera that so long has chimed In vast ports of grey where great mummers have mimed. Here bumblers as blithely both seized the dun strings As taut, chords of din, as untethered said wings.
Siren, my soulful one, Steady your song. Siren, my soulful one, String me along.
Long angelic faces, these of anglers of souls Have cast their dull hooks, quite indolent as drolls, Whose lines have all lithely, enlivened with shame, The laudable, artful
by *kodama
Random Favourites
Sane Asylum“I'm sane, I tell you! Sane! S-A-N-E! Sane! Why are you putting me in here?! I'm sane!” Charles struggled against the nurses' arms. “Let me go!” The nurses tossed him into the cell and slammed the door shut behind him. Charles began banging on the door and continued to do so even after he knew the nurses who had brought him there were long gone. Finally, he slumped against the door. “But I'm not crazy...” he whimpered. “Of course you aren't,” a voice behind him said soberly. “Why else would you be here?” Charles whipped around suddenly aware that he was not alone.Sane Asylum
“Who are-” he began, but the woman sitting befor
by =Dragon-Of-Eternal
Trickster's GambitTrickster’s GambitTrickster's Gambit
There are many of us in the forest. Grimmlings, we are, imp-wraiths of the woods. All the same, each to each, such that even where there is one, there is no I. And we slither unseen through the prickly brush, and you do not see us, for you do not even know we are there.
We are tricksy, foolish mortal, and it is best that you do not cross us, for we serve the Erl-King, and he is a vengeful lord, though fair and pleasing to the mortal eye. And this he knows, ah, this he knows too well, for he likes to lure the maidens to the forest there, and they do not often return to their village homes. Some
by *orphicfiddler
deviantID
Weep like a Widow
| "And I looked at Mary. And her face was not the face of a woman bereaved. It was the countenance of the fertile earth, forever giving birth, forever burying her children." -kahlil gibran I don't have much to share tonight of the usual vicissitude (or is that verisimilitude?) of my mind. This weekend, the day of independence no less, I set out to accomplish something that five years ago I set out to do. And then, just as three years ago when I set out to do the same, I failed. Not that the experience itself was a failure, inasmuch as I am not the same man I was three or five years ago. Nothing of the courses I took, the lectures I attended, the hours spent alone in the library, was in that change. But the people I met, the points of view I considered, the hours shared in the still summer nights of Kentucky: those are in me still. Now the sunshine state beckons, promising untold surprises and sunburns (mostly the latter.) I still have little taste for conversation and companionship. Any light I may bring into this world will likely be through my first and truest passion: music. As a musician I am no virtuoso. Not greatly talented nor technically skilled. In my mind there are songs to the beat of which my fingers cannot dance. I think I've said enough. weep like a willow soar like a sick-of- more these hedges i trim to the bough or the precipice of one little flow- er? -rah |
Friends
Comments
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
I'd kill for that username.
You're a lucky deviant indeed.
--
Bexagon
the Hexagon~
♥
--
"Verus amicus amore more ore re cognoscitur." [Vergil]
--
002110 Goto 013500
013500 Peek 16388, 236
013510 Poke 16389, 346
--
Hi. Sorry for the inconvenience, but some jerk hacked this account, got it banned, and then gave me back the password.
I'm now at *learn-to-spel.
Thanks.
You have some great stuff in your gallery, keep it up!
fetish comics :: cartoon porn :: toon sex :: Gary Roberts Comix :: sex comics
adult comics :: hentai movies :: Ferres Free
--
Battle Royale...RUN
--
It's Salvation that you want.
--
:\,·\,·-
:/`·› you never know if you'll be awake the next morning for the sunrise. live each day like it's your last.
^__^ I like it.
--
Arrow'd!
E-i-e-i-o is just a gross misspelling of the word "farm".
Previous Page12345...Next Page