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Prisoned BeautyI walk into this big empty castle.
Not a soul lives inside.
The frills and skirts endlessly flow over my legs as I move forward.
My curls spill over my shoulders and gently bounce as I move.
The crown on my head is fitted on well, but it is still not too heavy.
My shoes add to my height as if to demand authority, they show the importance in my stride.
My neck is adorned with the finest gold and jewels.
The scent of a garden follows my every movement, and I feel as if I could have a parade of followers at my calling.
But I keep wandering these dark halls, and no one is here. The rooms are empty, The court yards are barren, and I grow tired of climbing these winding stair cases.
The walls have begun to crumble, wind blows dirt in through the shattered glass windows.
The moon light barely shines through, lightly touching everything inside, bright and sure. Gentle and crude.
But the sun still does not rise.
The walls are cold too touch, and there are no throwns on which to s
Mystery of the Thunderbird Act one, scene one, stage right. I led the first cue. The slow beating of drums began and reverberated all throughout the large open theater. The audience fell silent waiting in eager anticipation for the excitement that the night here at the theater held for them.
I was to lead the first the first group onto the stage, I had the responsibility of opening the show. My job was to wait and listen for the right moment. When the drumming slowed and the lutes began their chorus I was to tromp slowly across center stage, then wander of to stage left.
My group and I were dressed as buffalo, our faces were intricately painted and we wore furs and skins in the fashion of old American Indians. I could smell the faint odor of alcohol, some of the other actors must have been drinking in attempt to settle their nerves.
I listened intently for the moment everyone in the building was waiting eagerly for, butterflies filled my stomach and I could hear my
Bleeding HandsMaybe the treasure I'm looking for isn't in this hole.
But I will keep digging. Even when my hands begin to bleed.
Why do I try so hard? Why was I put here?
Everyone else seems to be above me, I can see them walking around in the sunlight on higher ground. They're just enjoying what amazing blessings they don't know they have.
I am burning with hatred. Why am I angry at their happiness?
How can they be so oblivious to what's really going on around them?
But me.. I'm in this dark, cold, lonely hole. With only dirt at my feet. I've dug this hole too many times. I've dug this hole too deep, and how can I expect to go any deeper?
Will anyone pull me out if this is wrong? Will anyone come find me if I get lost?
Maybe I should stay down here, where I'm not in the way, where no one will have to see me covered in this thick dirt, with my torn open hands.
All I can seem to find myself thinking is, "Why am I down here? What did I do to deserve this? What can I do to win their respect?"
Where Are You Going?"Where are you going?" The question rang in my mind, from inside my head. The voice was warm. But I did not answer. I kept walking. I kept walking and walking into the darkness. The darkness was all I knew, and all I have ever known.
The cold sharp rocks of the twisted path stuck and clung into my feet, causing the pain to reach up higher and the cold to cling ever strong. Hunger griped me and I felt empty.
"Where are you going?" Said the warm voice again, but I did not look around. I was lost and I wasn't going to try to change it. The stars above mocked me as they disappeared one-by-one from behind the thorn trees that began to encase me. Just lost, but never had I known what it was like to know the way.
"Wrong way." Said a cold voice, was it mine? But I did not turn back. I knew no other way.
Now only the lifeless gray light of the moon could shine through the overbearing encasement of trees. Ruling above, their branches reaching out, ever stronger did their cage of torment
Race of the Provinces - pt4 Part 4
I was exhausted and hungry, but that made me all the more determined. I had finally made it back up to a surfacing ledge with a little help from my scary new friend.
Just then, the deep loud rumbling erupted from below in the mountain with a long moaning cry, causing me to loose my footing. It was the dragon in the hole echoing his roar through the caves.
"Aha!" I had found it. The dragon had told me to climb back out and go around the hill to a huge slab of rock, and by huge he meant only about a hundred feet tall. It was way bigger then I had originally imagined. So sighing, I and made my way over to it.
"Heellooo??" I cried as I put my ear to it. Supposedly he was behind this.
A low rumble shook the rock.
Race of the Provinces - pt3 Part 3
Slosh, slosh. I tried to stay quiet as I headed down to the opening. I was covered in mud, or what I hoped was just mud. Either way, it did seem to hide my scent from the dragons. My axes were in hand and I carefully stalked down to a particular place in the cave. It let off a faint light in this place, and I thought that maybe if I was lucky enough, it would be the portal chamber we were looking for. If not, I was hoping it would at least lead me to where I could see the sky again. I needed a little fresh air about now.
This place was knee deep with muck and filled the entire tunnel with a thick musty smoke that caused everything to glow. The smell was unbearable but I couldn't help but think about how famished I really was.
Race of the Provinces - pt2 Part 2
Galen was filled with worry and tension. Despair filled them as they didn't know what their next move would be. Galen was worried that he had let his master down and could only think of how horrible the dragons, with their fire and claws were treating the young prince. Alkestis wasn't any better, he could only stare off into the direction that the hoard had flown into, and tighten his grip on his spear. Worriedly he was searching for any sign or speck on the horizon that could prove to be Aldara.
Vexed and infuriated with everyone else. Parthenia had taken full authority and they were headed straight to the mountain. Quickly, they were out of the forest and scaling the steep hills of boulders which seemed to b
Race of the Provinces Race of the Provinces
-An original Story by AJBlueSox
It wasn't the first time that Ekho had sat in the council room during these meetings. He was as impatient as could be, but he kept his composure well before all the members. He was the prince in this city. Not particularly an important prince, and not nearly as important as his brother Soterios, he was the proclaimed Savior of this Kingdom. His father was exceptionally important, he was the King of this world, and this world held the capital city of all the seven great worlds of this region.
But at the moment, all of that seemed to be at its end. Everything was at stake, and the council members were yelling
When I was little. I was told that every little good thing you do, God will add another gem to the crown you're going to wear in heaven. But as a little girl I could only think, "How big is the crown? How small are the gems? Does it matter?" But my real question was related to a Dr. Seuss story about discrimination and comparing ourselves to each other, and that was all that I thought about. So what if someone could manage to do nothing good in their life? What if someone did good things constantly? People don't think, they just do.
But I was also told that everything you do onto others, you do onto Jesus. So maybe other people won't see those gems, only Jesus will. Maybe in heaven we can show each other our accomplishments and be able to tell those stories. Either way, that's not what I decided to believe. I think that whatever heaven will be like, I want my whole mansion filled with those gems for Jesus. Not just my crown. I want my garden with them, my walls,
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
LostI am lost
floating in this thick haze
standing in insecurity
my mind is unsure of what I am feeling
and my heart is unsure of what I know
I am lost in the promise of the future
why is everything so unclear?
I reach out in search of everything
my heart is crying out for its safe place
a place where there is no painful, lost, or lonely longing
my mind cries out for its fulfillment
where there is no worry or uncertain happenings
I fear what is unpredictable
what I don't understand
I know something is missing
I feel something is not quite where it should be
why can't I just go to my safe place?
why must I stay trapped in my fear?
in my insecurity, and my longing?
what is it that I am seeking?
how am I supposed to find it?
who will bring the sun to shine through this dark fog?
where is it that I really belong?
what should I be doing?
why am I really here?
will I ever find this place of pure satisfaction?
why is it this hard?
what can I do - floating lost in this uncertainty?
why do all thes
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More