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I do not see you, have you left me behind?
Did something more spectacular enthrall your mind?
It seems that way, for I am not blind, you've left me here to rot and bind.
To lurk in the shadows and be caught in the rains, you've left me to burden all of your pains.
Forgotten I'll be, trapped in the dark, but that's alright for my soul is stark.
The Dead CrowThe dead crow flies across the plentiful white grass.
Its decaying wings echo through the broken shards of glass.
Glass that was from windows and a shattered heart, one that could never be repaired, nor ever torn apart.
The crow glances down but doesn't care, for his soul and heart rest within the air.
It seems I've just found you, disgusting worm.
Your end shall be here, for it's at last your turn.
You left me to rot and to burden your pains, shall we see how it feels to not have control of the reins?
Oh yes we shall, for I have joined with death, to annihilate your soul and consume every last breath.
Mortal, you've taken far more than your own, you've stolen from myself, your mother, and the throne.
I shall strike down your life with my scythe in hand, your skull with bleed and your words be banned.
Your organs will shred, your eyes will melt, your intestines implode, and your throat shall smelt.
The end is nigh, here begins the gore, your body and soul will exist nevermore.
The TaleFingers stitched together by misfortune and still sages, here lies a tale with unopened pages.
Few filled with reasoning and joyful endings of rhyme, the majority fall upon stakes and grant their souls to time.
Phrases and fragments cast themselves within the lines, striking out and down the beautiful ones through a connection of ancient signs.
And alas none shall ever read it, this book so dark yet divine, hence I shall take it for myself, thus my soul is an unread rhyme.
The Absolute ChildrenInto the malnourished cauldron of bittersweet clarities, we smoothen the artificial, plastic pastes of injected, glass dexterities.
Shined freshly on the bloodied hands who observe from further high, the puss is cleansed to bleach the package of the childrens' placid eye.
Such terror forced into their meekly bodies, such repair demanded with pride; "Their perfection is an absolute;" the toxins are bred from their hide.
Into foul structures, placed, into addictive medicines, bound, their mouths are sealed by a bleeding price tag; care to listen to their sound?
The StoriesTo moonlight shards of forever shaded cages, we glance deep within the unspeakable pages.
The eyes of blank stories spoken by the lost old, their weak skeletal hands breach the coarse, bloody mold.
So dead and shrill, fear damns beauty's lying words, brainwashing the weaklings, striking down the meek herds.
Endless pages of regret tear the hearts of none before, not a soul could take their power; their existence nevermore.
Alas, these stories shall never prevail, for the readers cannot see them; their timid souls forever fail, not a soul shall ever dream them.
WeWe walk between empty mirrors, gracing those who have foreseen our lives.
We slither alongside shadows, banishing newborns from their knives.
Forsaken, our prey shriek, their joyful souls are forevermore meek.
Though, within them lies fear, a fear that we wish to seek.
Their speechless eyes wander aimlessly through our coats of despair and doom, seeing all with blind transparency except a cloud of gloom.
Our knowledge exceeds their beings, their fear is given without a fee.
Thus, always and forever shall we strike them down with glee.
EnoughI'm so very tired of your brainless children, writhing in their own spit and dirt, clogging the blind from attempting to see, attempting to see the meaning of "hurt."
As if serenity left the home of elegance; such turmoil has fallen upon me.
Unseen within the fog of elimination, your soul has ceased within thee.
Protected, nay, thou is not, from the deathly whispers and your everlasting naught.
For I am darkness without a rhyme, without forgiveness and sparing of time.
The CloakRobbed from buried clocks and the dear bird of elegancy, was a shining cloak of magnificence; pure transparency.
Its radiance brought upon wars of banishing, many secrets thrust forward and insanely vanishing.
Thus began the quest for the cloak, years of investigations had blinded all into smoke.
Though alas the cloak remains still intact, silently folded and within my soul, packed.
Italy BrothersXSister!ReaderXArthur Kirkland~Your P.O.V.~
I got home from school and walked past my brothers, Feliciano and Romano Vargas. I went upstairs to put my backpack up and then walked back downstairs. "(Y/N)?" I looked at Romano questionly. "Why is you shirt covered in blood from your nose?" Oh shit!
"N-no reason." I lied. "Just got into a fight with some girl who was teasing a lower class student today in the restroom." Please believe that. He nodded.
"(Y/N)!! Ludwig is coming over in five minutes!" I nodded.
"And?" Romano snapped his attention to our brother.
"Why is that potato eating bastard coming over here?!" Feliciano smiled innocently.
"To celebrate our six month annerversity of course! Ve!" I smiled at that. They were a cute couple I mean come on. Even Roma knew that...he's just jealous cause Feli spends all of his time with Luddy which is just a stupid nickname I have for him. Here we go again. I can already see this before it actually happens.
The Labyrinth of London: Goblin Mourning
The Labyrinth of London
A Sherlock/Labyrinth Crossover
“The Thin White Sleuth…”
Sarah heard Jareth punch the wall in his bedroom. Running out of her bedroom, she saw that his hand was dusty and bleeding. Several thoughts ran through her head. Why was he punching a wall? He actually takes off those gloves? Well, he took off those gloves before but… still. He always wears them. I knew he could get hurt, but I didn’t think his blood would look like mine. I was expecting green or something. Are those swords in that corner over there?
“Why did you just attack that innocent wall Jareth?”
The accused brushed the dust off his hand. “A goblin has been killed.”
“Oh… Jareth… what do….”
“Just get dressed. Lestrade is on the case and Rossetti is already there.”
Jareth did not put a glove on his injured hand, though he did have it w
You know I think it’s funny
The way you think
The way you do
And when I’m looking at you
I forget all my troubles
And my doubts
And try not think about
What I’d ever do without
You by side
And the way you look me in the eyes
I can’t help but feel
All these feelings that I’m trying to ignore
Oh, how you make my heart bruise and sore
When you look at me that way
I could get used to it everyday
If you wanna stay that’s okay
It’s fine with me I swear
You’ve always treated me
With the utmost care
And I want you to know
That I do and will
Love you everyday
Just the same
Every single day
There truly is no other way
I know you think I’m funny
The way I think
The way I do
You tell me that I’m just right
And nobody else could understand you
Better than I do
You just don’t get how
Your constant teasing
And your childish laughter
Can have such an effect on me
And when I’m alone
Not The Same WayI think when I see you...
My heart beats just a extra beat
And for that split second
I forget how to breathe
Sometimes I wonder..
If you feel the same way
But I know better
I know it's not the same for you
I don't even need to ask
I already know
And it's okay
That I don't take your breath away
Even for a second
Or that your heart beats more
When you see me
I'm just not that someone
I'm just like everyone else
In your eyes
I'm not the only one
When in my eyes
I find only you
Real Vampires- Chapter 1"Alright everyone, welcome our new student, Devin." Mr. Kelvis said as he opened the door, and a tall boy came in. "He is new to the city, and I'm sure you will all do your best to make him feel welcome."
The boy just smiled, he was wearing a trench coat, which was unbuttoned, under it was a white T-shirt, and a pair of black jeans. His sneakers were black as well and mostly covered by the hem of his pants. His hair was a midnight black, that had a slight shine to it, and it was messy, with a few locks draped over his right eye. His ears were pierced, with crossed dangling off them, and his eyes were a dark blue. Kate noticed all this in an instant she decided it was worth it to say hello.
"Hello Devin, I am Kate, and I would like to warmly welcome you to the school." She flashed her most impressive smile, and extended her hand to shake his. He looked at it awhile, and the shook it, but then she had him in her trap. She held on hard, and grinned. "I just have a few questions here, and
Thank You For BreathingI’m that trickle down your neck last week when you got upset.
That friend you’ve never met;
That kid you teased for being a teachers pet.
That kid who stays quiet when you get on his nerves;
The one who never got picked first;
The best at being last; Never been late for class; never got noticed for staying on task.
Know that’s there’s something special about being different.
I can’t explain it; not sure if it’s a gift or curse. It’s
Something about it makes me want to pick up a pen and write verses.
I feel like maybe God entrusted this mission to us; something more than Church.
Something more than the outside can comprehend and so we lock ourselves in a hurricane.
To bring tears to its eye; Teen angst at its worst.
But before sunshine; the storm will always be first.
Life’s a game of stamina. Do you have the strength to run?
Life’s a game of stamina. Do you have the strength to run?
This is dedicated to the scars on every teen
Never Graced -Pt. 1-A dark cavern was hidden among the rocks. Its innards went deep into the mountain. The peak of the mountain was higher than anyone would ever think to climb in the northern part of Romania. The inside went deep, almost never ending. But if you were dumb enough to go beyond where the light shone, you'd most likely be dead. It did end, somewhere beyond the naked eye could see. There, stalagmites and stalactites had grown, sharp and deadly. The sound of dripping water of the unseen and waiting stalactites echoed off the walls. Many small black figures hung from the ceiling. A shape, unmoving, could be just barely made out. All was silent, peaceful even, as the water dripped and echoed. Drip, drip, drip. Like a song.
The earth is unpredictable. It has its sudden volcanoe eruptions and its sudden rain storms. But now, as if by fate, it decided to start shaking violently. Through the shaking, the dripping could no longer be heard. Rocks fell from the ceiling, hitting the unmoving object on t
Full Name: Jacen Lee Alexander
Nick Names: Jay- Pretty much what I go by. And JJ.
Gender: Male Baby.
Human Age: 26
Immortal Age: Pirate Age.
Glasses or contacts: Nope.
Skin tone: Islander Tan.
Height: About 5'11
Body Structure: slim, 6 pack, some arm muscles, and fairly short for a guy.
Scars: Oh yeah. The one that hurts the most is in my chest.
Tattoo's: A few. I have a pirate brand and a slave brand/band.
Pricings: Lip and Ears. I have a earring that doesn't come out. it's a talisman from my father from my pirate days. And a few you don't need to know. I hide them from everybody. They mark me as a slave and are in my arm. Not even Elli or Mel know about them till now that is.
Mental/Physical Disabilities: *shrugs*
Origin: Caribbean, but moved to England when I was around 10. Then back to islands, then all around the fucking place.
Species: Incubus and White Were-Tiger
Supernatural Powers & Abilities: Needing to feed off woman, kill
Well, here I am, still lurking in the endless dark.
You still seem to be consumed by the beauty of something grand, not stark.
I still lie here with your endless pains, they speak to me of death.
A death so grand it could shatter souls, remove one's each and every breath.
I wonder now if your soul is worth the time needed to initiate this end.
My dear I shall soon find out, for I am nevermore your friend.
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More