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Temptations Lament
Trees stand in nudity,
As the last ripe leaves release
Their faint hold on life; and
In a swirl of red and orange textures
Cascade towards the ground into deaths grasp.
Surrounded by the husk parade
Leans a lone musician against a boulder.
His tune is one of sorrow, one of age;
His heart has turned to that of ashen dust.
When his song is heard, step into his shanty,
Come and feast on deaths' sweet notes
That play softly under the withering Oaks.
Jabberpocky'Twas chilling, how the geeky hordes
Watched anime each single day
Katanas were the plastic swords
In the Naruto cosplay

"Beware the Wapanese, my son!
Though skin is white, they think they're Jap
Beware the weeaboo and shun
The rabid fan of Gackt!"

He took his .45 in hand
Long time the pasty foe he sought
So rested he by Hello Kitty
As on a screen, mechas fought

And as these giant robots fought,
The Wapanese, with gelled-up hair
Came with a manga she just bought
Squealing "Kawaii desu ne!"

One, two! One, two! Double-tap times two!
The .45 did more than jack
He shot her dead, filled that bitch with lead
He wished he had a Ma
Middle of NowhereI am defined by the voice in my head, the constant chatter, the inexplicable flow of thoughts, the darting about of ideas, the sudden final draining of thought. I wait for the silence but the silence never comes. Not when you're around. When you're in the room the buzzing won't stop.

You never shut up do you? At least my reflections stay in my head. Yours ooze and leak out of you, flooding the room, seeping past the cracks in the windows into the cells of the other inmates until they drown and choke and die in the sludge that is your thoughts.

I'm safe so far because you want me alive. Maybe the word safe needs to be redefined. If I cared a
Temple of LoveSilence. Under the orange tree. The stars, far away.
I miss you and I miss myself. I'm tired.

The City. Big and vague, stretching Herself mercilessly until She reaches the four extremities of the horizon. Until She devours the stars.

Blind and old, She is. A filthy, old whore. Embracing us until suffocation. Breathing us till we drop dead. Glass-eyed.

The City. Hordes of undead creatures going up and down in Her veins. Her blood we are. Filling the streets with sweat, until the night guides us into the safety of our bed - or to the labyrinths of the Inner City.
Inner, sinner city.

My labyrinth is an island, surrounded by a sea of shit a
dis-expressionMy poetry
is a diamond
in a bargain store.

But it could be worse.
The AfterfireThe hand stroked his face but it was cold. Then an enraged scream echoed around him and the feeling of affection was exchanged for fingernails tearing into the tender flesh of his cheeks. Dan Cain cried out and pulled back. His attacker rose from the operating table where she had been laying cold and lifeless minutes before.

Megan was dead and alive at the same time and Dan found himself once again reminded of the creatures from the horror films that had scared him as a child. Zombies hungry for human flesh and brains; they had the same look to them that she did. The snarl splayed across her features feral, inhuman, as if all conscious thoug
Hunter's magicThere is old magic in the way we hunt.
We whisper wordlessly to our prey, our minds and hearts forming the chant, our mouths going through the motions but never making a sound.
The world around us ceases to be, and all we see and hear is the prey, all we are is the weave of the hunt.
We have always hunted like this, and we have never hunted in packs.
Our young hunt in twos, sometimes, while their senses are still dulled by youth, and while the magic is still silent in their heart. More often than not, though, even our young hunt alone, and come back hungry and tired, and disappointed.
We have all been there, felt that frustration an
Arunas's Nursery RhymeTut tut
tut tut
blue beard blue bird shatter glass glove
tut tut
tut tut
spit and stain glass, crimson sleet woven
spider shard tatter
carrion dove.
DreamsIsn't it amazing how dreams can change a person? Creativity infused with hidden desires and cravings of an individual; allowing them to create a world in which whatever they wanted or needed would come true. My dream ever since I was a child was to be a soldier of God with Mercy Relief. I wanted to do charity work in third world countries like Iraq, Africa and Thailand.

I was naive. I thought that I could make the world a better place and I had my mind bent on saving the world. To help enforce that children received at least a basic education and create an environment in which each child had an equal opportunity to live, thrive and grow with
The Saddest ThingSeems that glory for the dead has now gone,
The ivory graves and ebony crypts,
And helms displaced, while bones are dust,
Armor, swords, and shields to rust!

Yes...it's the saddest thing you've ever seen;
To see the pipes played on the green
In memory of those who've died..
While mothers weep and children dream.

Church bells toll in sad remorse
For peace disrupt and war abroad;
Women bid their men farewell,
Those damned to an eternal hell!

Yes...it's the saddest thing you've ever seen;
To see the pipes played on the green,
For those who've wished for peace instead!
And were given war to dread!

Their pikes and swords and spears
The Remnants of Athens...
The Remnants of Athens…

On the high cliffs of Athens
I find ancient peace
Dust of the past,
Takes me through my own dreams
A moving picture awakes,
Immobilizing my entire being
Fragments of history appears,
Myths, oracles, legends and great minds
Shattered sculptures and broken statues
Proudly patched together, kept and protected
Yet mourning lost pieces,
Remnants in remembrance of great words
That once was spoken, now repeated and praised
I listen silently to the stories, whispered by the warm rays of the sun
Melodies of dozen birds,
You can hear the Gods...

I listen to ancient language and I wish I knew the meaning
I swear
The Creative Process                                       "The Creative Process"

She lies in bed for almost another hour after waking up. The bed is cold, the room is chilly and lonely like a stray dog. She hugs the pillow, staring at the gloomy light creeping through the dull curtains. It's cloudy outside and she's woken up before the alarm clock, wondering if she even slept at all. She lets go of the pillow and turns over on her back. Now she faces the ceiling, idle
3 kai kati imiparamythia                                           3 και κάτι ημιπαραμύθια

1.Σαμανισμοί

Μοιάζεις με σαμάνο. Το βλέμμα σου είναι έντονο, τρυπάει έντονα το κεφάλι του συνομι
galazia synnefa                                                  Γαλάζια Σύννεφα

τόπος: Σταθμός μετρό “Ευαγγελισμός”, έξοδος Ριζάρη
χρόνος: πρωί προς μεσημεράκι
soundtrack: Mercury rev – Blue Clouds (Daniel Johnston cover)

    Είχε
blood on your lips.With his arms raised he’s like an exotic bird on a white picket fence: out of place – ridiculously so. His red hair is wild, as usual, brushing the middle of his neck, and he’s dressed like the city kid he is at heart, right down to the crumbling Chuck Taylors' – high tops, signature black with red laces – on his feet and up to the newsboy cap perched at an angle on his head that Ellis knows is anything but practical. But Flynn Thomas has never been the image of practicality.

Flynn’s twenty-seven, not old – he’s got a whole life in front of him. Yet it makes Ellis sick to know he’s only a year you
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November 5, 2006
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EDIT- I won 3rd place!!!

This was planned for :iconmehrunnisa:'s "Cathedral of Time" challenge. It took only a moment's browsing through her wonderful stock before I found inspiration, and here's what came of it!

The wonderful preview pic (and inspiration behind the story) can be found here: [link]


(In case you're wondering- the name does have significance. "Horatia" means literally "Timekeeper" I just couldn't help myself!)

And another chapter is up! [link]
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:iconoibyrd:
Mood: Love `oibyrd May 30, 2007  Hobbyist Digital Artist
congrats on your win! :clap: please shoot me a note and let me know if you want the print or the subscription - and if you do prefer the subscription - please send a link to the account you'd like me to give it to :) thanks and once again, great job! :clap:
Sandi ox
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:iconhiddenrelevance:
*HiddenRelevance May 30, 2007
Thank you!! *hugs*

I'm a sucker for pretty things so it's definitely gonna be a print.. I'm going through your shop as we speak!
Reply
:iconshepaintswithblood:
`ShePaintsWithBlood May 2, 2007   General Artist
Very nice. I love the theme of it and the beautiful imagery it gave me while I was reading. I love all the bells you used in it too. I already like the character as well and I love the name you chose and it's meaning. Beautiful writing, well done.:blackrose:
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:iconhiddenrelevance:
*HiddenRelevance May 3, 2007
Oh thank you dear! I'm so glad you enjoyed it.. it's a piece I loved writing!

And yeah, I'm a percussion girl- and chimes and bells tended to be a big part of the instruments I played!

*grin* I'm glad you like the name too.. I tend to be addiction to those baby name finders- I like all my characters to have some hidden symbol.. even if I'm the only one who knows what it is!! lol

BTW, there is a first chapter to this up as well (this now being the prologue)
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:iconshepaintswithblood:
`ShePaintsWithBlood May 4, 2007   General Artist
Oh good. I love bells too, I tend to draw them a lot lately.

Oh okay, I will go read more of your work soon, I like it so far.:blackrose:
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:iconhiddenrelevance:
*HiddenRelevance May 7, 2007
yah! Bells make me happy!
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:iconmental-mishap:
~Mental-Mishap Apr 6, 2007  Hobbyist General Artist
wow what a fascinating concept!!! :O
really well written as well
really captivated me
:D :D
well done!
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:iconhiddenrelevance:
*HiddenRelevance Apr 9, 2007
Oh thank you my dear!!! It was a lot of fun to write! *hug*
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:iconmental-mishap:
~Mental-Mishap Apr 10, 2007  Hobbyist General Artist
:D i bet it was
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:iconbrooke22:
~Brooke22 Feb 22, 2007   Writer
WOAH!!
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