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[Suffering Through the Sulfur][Suffering Through the Sulfur]
The fragrant aroma of sulfur filled my nostrils again,
Maybe it’s time I saw a doctor…
I walked into the office, the effulgent overhead lights glared deep into my pupils,
Suffocating my vision with a radiance so luminous, that it was darkness,
Leaping onto the table, I wait, patiently, as a patient,
The doctor looks me over and begins to test me,
What starts as a short routine procedure slowly turns into an hourly, two hourly, three hourly, four hourly session of guesses and wild goose chases with no map,
At this point, the only successful test the doctor has done, was to test my patience.
After all of that, Doc couldn’t tell me what’s wrong. Why would I be smelling the burning stench of sulfur? Is it in my mind? Perhaps. But I feel a burning pain deep within me, within not only my body, but my soul.
Nothing has gone right for me for months,
I lost my job, I lost my friends,
I lost my beginnings, I lost my ends,
I lost what I care
[Justice, or Just Us?][Justice, or Just Us?]
For hundreds of years, the kingdom of Zildran and it’s people have prospered.
Known throughout the land for their kind, loving, caring, and compassionate way of life, they have made no enemies for as long as their castle walls have stood.
Unthreatened for nearly a third of a millennia, the kingdom has remained unguarded, unprotected, and untargeted by the surrounding barbarian clans.
Many kingdoms have fought against each other in wars lasting as long as Zildran has remained at peace, but never once has Zildran fallen under siege by rival forces.
One of the most significant reasons for this is the utmost respect and admiration that the other kingdoms have for Zildran and it’s inhabitants.
Whenever a soldier from a bordering kingdom is wounded in battle, they are taken to Zildran for medical treatment. It matters not who they are, where they hail from, or what purpose they are fighting for; All men and women are created equal in Zildranian eyes.
Burying Their Heads In Ashes[Burying Their Heads In Ashes]
They wait and watch in anticipation, sitting in comfort in front of their television screens, while the whole, world, burns.
They cower in fear at the sight of the coming storms, broadcasted across the nation, across the rest of the planet.
They watch the men and women, dance with words on their electric canvas, painting pictures with their tongues. The artist's job is to exaggerate the truth for ratings, to suck the viewer in to their world for the next 60 seconds, letting them taste and feel every moment that their eyes cannot capture, though they know not how futile of an attempt their exaggeration carries on today.
The end isn't near, the end is now. As demons pour from the floodgates of the coming hell, fire burns freely into the souls of every man and woman within spitting distance, and the ones who sit and watch it happen from afar gather with their children, shielding their eyes from the inevitable.
The waters flood the cities from the o
Another Piece of LiteratureI'm surprised you even look at this,
this collection of phrases and words
Most probably you'll have just glanced over it
who reads but geeks and nerds?
Browsing all the newest arts
who would pause to scan
something that when compared to visual art
is much, much less than?
For it takes mere seconds
to look at a painting and fave
But if it takes minutes to read
many people would rather not slave.
No one can read an essay
in a few moments or less
though such an essay had taken so long
to write and think and express.
For reading this far I admire you
you are not like the others around
you took the time to read this
piece of literature you found.
But alas! no one else would care
to give only a minute or two
to read through a different kind of art
and maybe even give a review.
Literature is less noticed,
pushed aside more often than not,
and when one says "art"
few think of poems and one shots.
I hope this poem has helped
and maybe even was able to sway
you to think more of words
and view ar
The MusicianThere once was a musician, who lived beyond the sea,
one of the most profound in music that there could ever be.
A slender man with black hair and a lovely face,
he could sing and play music with impeccable grace.
Leaving his audiences with a melodic tale and tears to trace,
he soon became famous, forever leaving his commoners place.
There once was a musician, who lived beyond the sea,
he passionately poured his soul into his work as many agree.
He was so very young and handsome, talented and smart,
it was no surprise that many loved him from the start.
Until the day he found a woman he could give his heart,
promising each other under an oak tree to never be apart.
There once was a musician, who lived beyond the sea,
they married with rings inscribed "Forever will I love thee."
Although he was very busy, for her he was always there,
he'd do little things to show her how he really did care.
Such as holding her tightly while playing with her hair,
and giving her a locket which she would
71. ObsessionAbout nymphs, I know without fails
You have probably heard countless tales
Already, so why should you hear mine?
What could I possibly refine?
Now I'm not Ovid, I admit
(Would be sev'ral cent'ries late for it)
But stay and listen to my story
I promise you won't be sorry.
Let me tell you not about love
Surely you know enoug tales thereof
So how about obsession instead
And a night painted crimson red?
Once upon a time it began
When during a full moon night a man
Could not rest in Morpheus's arms
He wandered off under sev'ral charms.
Not awake he followed the trail
Laid to his feet by Selene, the pale.
Into the mountains she guided him
Where the world was so rough and grim.
The feet left bloody stains behind
Tracks which an Oread did then find.
She follwed them to the mountain's top
Where finally the man did stop.
The mortal man she did pity
So alone and far from his city
Caught in this obsession for the moon
Unaware his feet turned maroon.
The nymph thought and worried her brain
waterfallshe dreams with river fingers
as the skipping stones skip by
and the ripples on her eyelids
speak of cerulean skies
as the sunlight glimmers through her
finding gold streaks in her hair
songbird melodies delight her
in the smiling summer air
she’s a mirror, slow and quiet
she is grace and depth and flow
but she yearns for force and fire
and a way to be her own
cattail irises shed oceans
and the water lilies wilt
while she drifts in languid sorrow
duckweed tresses lose their gilt
words and rose thorns clog her waters
rocks and tree roots drive her stream
out of misery she rises
with her blossom eyes agleam
tranquil streams awaken torrents
rushing footfalls stir up spray
and she glows with newfound glory
in her cascading ballet
GoJust run don't look back, you already did that enough times to give yourself whiplash. Drop everything and just start running, it's your turn to finally start getting what you want. So don't just sit there and do fuckall like you always do, do something else for fucks sake. No matter how much it hurts don't stop, it'll get better; it always does it just takes time. So get the fuck up and go.
LIRIA CRUSADERSIn this world, it is not like your own
For in this land sat a king on a thrown.
Though this man had a kind face,
Behind the castle walls, peonage took place.
The king thought himself a powerful man
And enslaved the entire Zotairak Clan.
The Zotairaks’ leader, whom once stood tall,
Now sat under the king as his personal thrall.
This way of life lasted for many centuries,
Building up some rather terrible memories.
Finally one day the Zotairak leader had enough.
He rose up tall and yanked off his cuff.
With his mighty voice, he roared to his clan,
“Come brothers, come sisters, and come forth woman and man!
Together we will fight back for our land!
We will be free of this pain, free from this misery!
We will break from this evil penitentiary!”
So the battle began and soon turned into war
Ending only when neither clan could fight anymore.
Though, this war was far from over. This they all knew.
The Zotairak retreated across the sea to Feiaras to plan their next move.
The Outcast's TaleThe Outcast’s Tale
You do not see me anywhere,
But that does not mean that I’m not there
I’m the one who observes, that no one sees
I am the outcast, now if you would please
Come closer now, and I’ll tell you a tale
Of a girl, who in the school was hailed
At homecoming and prom, queen above them all
Admirers would watch she walked down the hall
Beautiful was she, pale skinned and fair
And in loose flowing curls she wore her golden hair
She possessed such poise, refinement and grace
You could see it in the smile on her angelic face
Her looks would turn heads wherever she went
Some even believed she was heaven-sent
But with all her looks and all her charm,
Her words were poison, she easily harmed
Those who were different, the misfits and geeks,
The nerds, goths and gays—to her, they were all freaks
And certainly not as good-looking as she
And for that alone, she set her cruelty free
The girl, I’ll call her Lorie from here on,
Woke up early, just after
Here in my house,
in my grave,
Colors of red and shame,
circle me and make their fame...
on my sinful frame.
It streaks my face,
It winds up my arms like lace.
It snakes around and around,
on my legs and bloodstained gown.
As it covers me,
I see it's glee.
As it sears,
As it burns,
it smiles with sickening yearn.
At my nearing end?
At nothing done to save and mend me?
No answer it lends,
such a wonderful “friend”.
My little friend,
lets me ascend,
on my decision's bitter end...
over and over again.
How stupid was I,
to let the knife drive and fly,
into my chest's sky?
How did I not see,
the slow and painful glee,
of what death wanted for me?
I was stupid and blind,
the right is long gone to find.
Now, with only my mind,
loving and kind,
We must find God who shined....
on my cords of strong bind.
I scream in my head:
“ I know I did something wrong,
I know I don't deserve your warm song,
but please prove me wrong!
Take me into your arms wher
That is no moreShe was lost in the stars
A creature of the future
That is no more
She took step after hesitant step into the cool lake
Her eyes shut, and she shivered, as cold dark water enveloped her body
The heavens reflected all around her
She was lost in the stars
Her past was shredded paper
Stones crumbled into sand
That drifted away
A creature of the future
The water melted her
Her body slipped into its unfathomable depths
She was a woman
That is no more
The Fabled FableThe Fabled Fable
I'd like to tell you of a story, of sorts,
But I'm afraid that it would be a waste of time,
You see, my stories don't make much sense,
But continue reading if you value your ignorance,
Now some folks ask me, of long lost treasures,
And I look into their eyes and say,
You're wasting your time with foolish endeavors,
And that's why toads grow mushrooms in the day,
The trees sway back and forth, at night,
But that doesn't make them wrong,
What would make a tree wrong, you ask?
The fact that chairs don't dance without a mask!
Pirates don't swing their swords around,
And stags don't brush their antlers at noon,
Snake meat is like bear meat, pound for pound,
And snails don't fly without a silver spoon,
A figure of speaking, a speaking figure,
Walked up to me on a midnight day,
He held out his pistol and pulled the trigger,
And as the boulder rolled, the grass grew bigger!
Don't look at me, like you don't understand!
The answer is as clear as pitch,
You have the truth s
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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