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Devil's Pawn, Ch 1Devil's Pawn
"I wonder what it feels like to be dead," Karen looked up from her book.
"Why do you ask?" Jon asked with a small grin, laying his own novel aside.
"Well, no one knows. No one can know. Wouldn't it be nice to know what's gonna happen when you do die?"
Jon looked thoughtful for a moment. "Huh. Interesting, very interesting," he adopted a sort of pseudo-Transylvanian accent, tenting his long, dark fingers and raising an eyebrow at us. "To die, to be really dead, that must be glorious!"
"Yes, thank you Dracula," Karen's eyes turned heavenward.
Jon shrugged. "It's a damn good movie for all the bats are on strings. How 'bout you, Jim? Any burning desire to delve into the great beyond?"
I paused, unsure of how to express myself to the atheist extraordinaire across from me. "I suppose it would be nice to know," I said slowly. "But then, it's a bit, well, blasphemous, isn't it?"
Karen laughed, nipping Jon's biting, anti-religious retort in the bud. "Jim, you take everything too se
Catching FliesCatching Flies
silly little people,
in their silly little places,
with their silly little gestures,
and their silly little cares.
leaving petty comments,
making judgements with no reason,
and they just don't care!
silly little issues
raised by silly, silly people
who can't see more flies are caught
by being kind than being cruel
who are they to judge,
who am i,
who are you,
who are we to say we're better
than the other oh-so-very
silly, silly, little men?
Treat me Right
From every ill must come a gladness,
Joy upraised where sin must fall.
For all that´s lost there is a finder,
Shepherd hast´ning to the call
Of sheep once sorr´wing and forsaken,
Once blinded, lame,
Now standing tall.
And though you loved me only briefly,
passed on the other side the road,
Each Pharisee has still a stranger,
Who will stop,
Help bear the load.
Thou slime of Satan-spawn,
Thou friend, thou confidante,
Abominations thou hast acted,
No ablutions now could cure.
And damnéd souls which dog thy footsteps.
Guide thine actions Hades-bent-
These thou hast called up upon you,
Wretched creatures devil-sent.
The light of Lordly love, God´s favor,
has forever quit thine eyes,
Yet still I feel thou must be thankéd,
for making me so worldly-wise.
All these voices -
Flying through my head.
Some kind of happy,
Some say "wish I was dead."
It isn't fair, it isn't right,
Some people feel all right and others
Cry every night.
I don't care for influence,
Position or power,
But things that you don't think about
Up in your ivory tower.
My life may seem wonderful,
When compared to yours,
But that won't keep my head from
Fighting these little wars.
I don't think I'm ungrateful,
I don't think that I'm spoiled,
But sometimes I feel buried under
Life's little toils.
If guilty makes it better
Then maybe I'm just wrong,
Since I don't think that feeling worse will help
Me get along.
I have sat in this place and waited I know not how long. I have striven to remember the life I
once knew, but it slips away as inexorably as the water slips over the stones in the stream at
home. Home. I must hold on to this thought, lest I find myself not knowing of water, or life outside of this wretched path.
Yet this thing I call wretched is not. It is beautiful, so lovely, in fact, as to be almost painful. Far better to be imprisoned somewhere I can hate with ease. To both love and loathe is truly a terrible fate. Someone comes; I hear footsteps not far along the path, and, foolish though it seems, I hope. I fear this stranger will not stop, will not even see me, for very few do. And those who take note seem to see also that I am being punished, and are frightened, as I was so very long ago. I, however, did stop. I took pity, and that has been my undoing.
hyenas make the best lovers.i need to stop looking
for death in every body
my fingers touch.
i have been force fed
old lovers, & slices
of the moons lying dust
i am messy poems;
i am fractured confessions.
i am laughter
my jaws ache
with the taste of
i am still hungry.
give me your sugar;
I will share my breath.
you are still made of starstuff,
& i am no longer caged.
PretendingYou, full and complete you, you have become my strength and my talisman for all times...
You, and again you, you let I wrecked just in you…
You, my madness is you, you tie me to your body and do not let me go...
You, inside me, between every atom, between every cell you live among...
I say all the time: fear not, there are songs that will never know who sings...
Those kisses never know who prints them on your lovely lips...
You nail down your dreamy eyes and tenderly ask me: Are you crying?
No, I answer. Dried my eyes are... to the bottom you can look into them.
If you get lost, breathe me and you will find you.
The truth is that I beg you to remember that this that born in my mouth, this awakening in my eyes, will sleep latency in your soul.
Undoubtedly you will become the most beautiful and sad fisherwoman of Stars.
I'm hiding my will to live, of my desire to live for you.
Maybe I can lose myself in the eyes of the person asking for a miracle, but it is certain that, I want to
StockholmBut my heart beats for you alone
You are not
You are ever watchful
Hoping for devotion
My wandering heart
Beating for you
My SunlightYou are my sun,
My only light,
As you fade,
The moon is there,
A memory of you,
Of the darkness,
Before your dawn.
You are the breeze,
That kisses my face,
Those tender lips,
That rushing embrace.
You are the grass,
Beneath my feet,
You hide my tears,
You support my weight.
You are the last,
One for me,
There was many before,
But they were never the same.
With you its right,
With you its love,
And if tonight,
I come above.
I'll see your glory,
From the moon,
From the memory,
Of this afternoon.
Puppet String SymphonyHere come the snares,
wrenching at my heart;
like my tongue can’t find the words to say.
I've been resurrecting your skeletons,
just to place broken flesh over it and watch it all decay…
…scratching at freshly picked scars and rose petals,
while digging up old habits and hatchets;
just so I can whistle a tune so tragic.
Here comes the wind,
stomping at my lungs;
like my emotions are gasping to be released.
I've been coughing up your cover-ups,
just to place my index finger over it and watch it all cease…
…living in this darkness, sulfur-tipped match tossed in the breeze,
while thinking it’s just not worth the candle;
just so I can hum a song you can’t handle.
Here come the keys,
playing at my mind;
like all eighty-eight demons and angels serving one star.
I've been worshipping my self-inflicted headache,
two times twelve and that’s how many bars…
…I've got to show you the color I feel.
When the puppet string symphony beg
About ArtA sweet poem,
All but a
For the true art called
I PromiseIt is a painful thought
To know he kissed you,
To know he stole your innocence.
He felt the warmth and comfort of your love,
But manipulated it to lust
And turned that perfect smile I now see,
Into a lifeless vessel
That gave into his
Carefully painted words
He had you
Before I ever knew you,
I'm sorry I wasn't there,
I'm sorry I could not save you.
But look up at me now, love,
Look up at me with those astonishing, crystal eyes
And know that I will love you
Until this heart of mine has given out.
I am your present
And your future;
I will love you for more than your body,
I will love your wild personality,
I will love your motherly instincts,
I will love your acceptance,
I will love your understanding,
I will love your "frustrations",
I will love your timidness,
I will love your stubbornness,
I will love your laughter,
I will love your tears,
I will love your scars,
I will love your flaws,
But most of all;
I will love you.
HowlHe’s a dancer in the dark
With unearthly rhythm
She’s the moon he left to sleep
In a sky without her stars
Like a poem led by lust
In a world of not to happen
Like a symphony of phoenix flights
On a December night
Singing for the ones they laid to rest
On their holy ground
Without an Earth
He’s the wolf
Howling with regrets
In a world of his own madness
She’s the moon
Without a sky to hold her high
In the night
Like the odds are not in favor
Like the sun that conquers
And the moon on someone else's sky
Like the legends we used to fear
Children by the fire’s flames
We used to be believers
In a world without its hope
Dream, boy, dream of wonder
In a world without sparkle
Like stormy days
In a September goodbye story
Of sleepless nights and awaken dreamers
Stars that pierce the sky
Are just children of regrets
Of a love that never happened
But always echoed in the night
Unrequited LoveJust think of me.
Text me good morning and good night.
Text me at lunch just to let me know you're alright.
Wish me a good nap around five or six.
And if you're every bored just give me a call.
I'll make you a fangirl no matter what.
Even if you never admit it I'll let you off.
Meet up with me every now and then.
Never end a conversation with just goodnight or goodbye.
Ask questions and explore life with me.
Support me but don't try to fix me.
Even though I'll try to fix you.
But first I need this dream to come true...
My LibraryIn this place I can be fearless,
Here, alone, I am complete.
Fiends of hell and guardian Angels
Of Lords and libertines replete.
In this place are friends full-faithful,
Beauties which shall never fade.
The power-mad, the would-be heroes,
Dance in endless cavalcade.
In this place I find my answers,
Lovers who shall never leave.
Inspiration, flights of fancy,
Gems which genius wordsmiths weave.
In this place I 'suage my sorrows,
Here I feel I am reborn.
In books I live so many lifetimes,
My soul with artistry adorned.
HomesickI am the river's son,
my arteries flowing turquoise
and turning to rapids
rushing around my frame,
filling me with this sense
of buoyancy, minnows
tickling my sternum.
I am the river's son.
My palms caress each
silty shoreline, every
battered bank and bend,
and these places I know
so well become me
as my fingerprint,
even the bridge above me
inflamed by the afternoon
sun-glow, burning rusty and
the steel blue sky.
I am the river's son;
I bring my home along
like hermit crab,
where I step
I pull water from the earth.
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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