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Unloved AngelUnloved angel, whom I must say indeed, you look quite ethereal, though you are considered a weed.
A weed with divine power, and the ability to outthink, you can simply make the flowers wilt and shrink.
A weed with truly hypnotic eyes, that glare and pierce the dead who rise.
Creating truths that cannot be lied, how you kill so many who are frightened inside.
Painting stories and crushing all, watch them run, watch them fall.
And here you are, chained to your sins, farewell dear one, rest well within.
Dissect their cancerous minds, warp them and crush them, turn them into lines.
Shred their veins and slice open their eyes, save the blood that runs for further times.
Snip their ligaments, and slaughter their hearts, for their parts are useless and their souls are tart.
PirateEnglandXReader Mistaken Identity Epilogue
Pirate England X Reader
Arthur carried (Name) to his room and laid her down gently on his bed, stroking strands of hair out of her face. "I told you I'd come find you poppet," he said softly.
(Name) opened her gentle (ye/c) eyes and smiled at him. "I know. I never doubted you."
Arthur gently took one of (Name)'s hands in his own and held it close.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see you again."
"I can say the same Arthur, for myself and Peter." Arthur smiled and softly kissed the
back of her hand.
"I'm just glad you're both safe."
Suddenly, the door was pushed open abruptly and in came an overexcited Mindy, who rushed to (Name)'s side the instant she saw her.
"Mindy!" said (Name) sitting up a little too fast, making her recoil and fall back onto the bed.
"Don't overexert yourself poppet. You need to rest." (Name) nodded and tried to get comfortable again.
Mindy kneeled down next to (Name) and hugged her neck gently. "I missed you (Name)." Again, (Name) smiled.
"I missed yo
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More