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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.
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.
Come With MeCome With Me
As the moon arises from the ocean sea, my soul disappears, won't you come with me?
But it seems you're afraid, the dead world isn't bad, there are millions of skeletons and souls at hand.
They'd love to meet you, to rip off your flesh, and to lead you to our king who would devour your soul, fresh.
You'd become one of us after that painful journey, but dearest you love me, so won't you join me?
Such a Lengthy Venting PieceAn iron-scented red liquid, oozing violently out of your puss-filled skin.
It never ceases to stop, it gushes through paper, bandages, and twins.
Twins bonded by their bones, tearing each other apart within.
Pleading with the devil to release them of this painful hatred, to free them of an eternal bond.
A bond so severe it would shatter the windows to the Gods, ones forged of pure souls and happiness.
Happiness, such a vile word, it describes a falsity that none can accept or learn.
Such pathetic simpletons they are, never comprehending a damned thing, let alone why they're here, or why beauty doesn't come with a ring.
Mortals, they sicken me, they must be punished and mauled.
Mauled by the very claws that grow within their skin, the claws that tore through their soul once before.
But before is in the past, and they must fall beneath me now, beneath the one they tormented and called a "pathetic sow."
The agonizing names, the failures and the doubt, their Hell will be paid three times o
The Lonely HouseThe Lonely House
Across the plains, lies a lonely house.
None ever choose to visit it, not a human nor a mouse.
It lies in a grassy field, tattered and torn, the roof tilted over, it's so very forlorn.
This house sees the rains, the trees and the stones, but the only inhabitant is now a bag of bones.
A once loving owner is deep underground, a plague of silence is the only sound.
And soon to think this house shall fall, no, it shall not, for it still remains tall.
Taller and prouder than the houses far away, it shall always live to see another day.
Journey to the mansion once at three, and search through the bushes for the undiscovered key.
Unlock the door and step inside, though do be hasty for you must hide.
Hide my dear from those horrid beasts, the ones that crawl and the ones that feast.
They slither around leaving trails in sight, their saliva is is sticky so you cannot fight.
Quickly now, run out to the garden, inhale the stench from the human plants.
Give them love and feed them pain, for you'll never rest eyes on their souls again.
A PoemSo many issues from this place, the plaster melted from my face.
A smile that was once gleaming bright has shriveled into a scream of night.
A scream that whispers the blinded lies, the ones that were forced into my eyes.
To conceal my knowledge of future events, it was placed as a guard from my innocence.
And here I lie, within the trails, trapped beneath this train's very rails.
Clinging on to the darkest ways, never seen and never phased.
Forevermore I shall remain at last, stuck between dimensions, mostly in the past.
Hoping that one day I shall redeem, the wrongs that they've done to blind the seam.
MyselfThe jar of tears has fallen to pieces, lost are the memories from within the creases.
They've all abandoned me, my silent friends, our bonds have withered beyond their ends.
So predictable this scene truly was, the girl who fell from not a single cause.
Twas my own fault, for I banished all help, rotted to pieces within myself.
Though alas a mark has been etched within stones, "My soul lives forever without my bones."
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
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
What Will I Become?______________________________________________________________________
______LOADING FILE: WHAT_WILL_I_BECOME?_#1/___________________________
The floor was cold as the thin, tired boy placed his foot on the ground. Reid shivered, and huddled under his small, thin sheet that had been provided for him. He wanted to go to sleep, but he couldn't. Every time he fell asleep, the Masks came for him. (The Masks were unknown gender humans, with either gasmasks or one way goggles and surgeon masks.) He shifted slightly, because the hard metal frame of his bed dug into his shoulder blade. The bed was just as stiff as his shoulders.
"I gotta stay awake.... I can't go back to sleep..." His thoughts started to drift, and his eyes were heavy from days without rest. As they finally closed, he heard the footsteps of
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
the back of your head against my washed pillowcaseI find it
you are the King
of my own Head
& that I am
by my own
My bones, your
to your insatiable
I find this
rebirths in my
three years of
the wrong gods
you are the best muse
for struggling artists
everywhere & worst
case of the bubonic plague
since the bubonic plague
I find you
in the middle
of any where,
I shot a flock
& ate Adam's
I remain ignor
ant and ignor
ed by you
I find Nothing-
& leave me be.
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
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.
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More