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Save meUnder roaring sky, amid the angry waves,
heard her piercing cry resound from deep below.
All alone, I fight against the current.
Out in dark, but lead by ardent heart
paying not the slightest heed to
what they call 'Insanity'
Down the depths, the darkness
palls. I find my moon;
dim, the sprites
guide us back,
back to -
VengeanceVitreous eyes aflame with anger:
a fiery pique -
that is no more a feeling;
it will have you encircled.
A face-off is imminent.
'There's no where to hide.'
Imaginary fettersBlazing squinting eyes
that watchful shadow
keeps sidling behind.
He bound himself with fetters
of sneering looks,
and opinions, if only he'd see,
The soul attire of conduct
and uttered words,
reflected but sham image
of the inside.
He scrutinized his portrait
in the looking-through glass,
but could not recognize the one
he had become.
He perceived he lived more
suppressing and profoundly hiding
that insipid life did
when he'd unleashed
his real core.
Years in her eyes Every birthday she wakes up early; and with her intimate diary and a pen she gaily trudges up a green hill - a fifteen-minute walk from where she lived. Under the one solemnly standing, big old tree there she sits down. It is the usual time she looked back at a year passed. A year torn between rapture and grief; hours of anxiety, and moments of relief; depressing falls, and soaring spirits. A year where there are chapters stained with the loss of the ones we loved, and others ornamented with such time we had with wonderful friends, and rimmed with rather great acquaintances.
This year the view from the top was overwhelmingly breath-taking that she'd to contemplate the beauty of nature for some time; and after taking few last glimpses of the gently bright orange disc, before it was far too unbearable to be an object for her delicate vitreous eyes, she went to her old seat. As she opened her diary, the morning breeze softly rustled stirring the withered leaves o
The story of my life One magically beautiful day or splendidly starry night, somebody accosts me and says 'I love you.', instantly lifting me up on top of the world. Days pass and I ,abruptly, take a shot right in the core blowing me off the edge. As I fall I see all our gorgeous memories fading away up amidst the clouds, except for two moments that stick to my head: the moment when they made me the happiest person in the world; and that when they took away everything leaving me with another stab in my heart..everything goes black.
I open my eyes to such ghastly atmosphere! Having reached everything around me, the fire of boredom devours any interest in them I might have, or even had have! Dull and gaunt, is what they had become. I shut myself up in my room dodging those intrusive inquires, though in consciousness meant but good - I do know, but that doesn't make them any less bothering: alluding to pallor, absence of mind, and loss of appetite to do anything. I just wanna be al
Brutal worldAwoke he was in dark and horrid place,
alone with neither guide nor shred of light,
where path of doubt and self-denial he'd face,
along with whispers that disturb the night.
'Won't clock's ticking ever cease?' Therefore -
a quick, but prudent, decision shall be made;
for chilly snags of life did freeze my core,
'O God, that night appears quite loath to fade.'
He wandered here and there with slouching back;
he had to find that starry skied-road,
to cast the arrows of light upon that track
and bury the weight of such a heavy load.
'Forsaking kindness or, retaining it?,
in such a brutal world which one does fit?'
Orchard of LoveO, orchard of love, how glamorous you are!
The moment she entered such effusion,
her soul was transfigured with elation;
the enthralling scenery silenced every scruple,
and had her vision bound to the merry present.
Amid the bewitching blossoms she danced,
and swayed in the gentle breeze;
conceived she'd got it all -
for what can be more worthy?
A passionate adoration, a poetic atmosphere,
aflame with his mesmerising charm.
She yielded utterly;
a feather carried by his wind.
A dainty sunflower under the star;
her sustenance for life; her beacon of dreams.
She loved him with no fear nor limits,
forgetting about her own will.
Insipid, she'd grown to him;
a change he desired.
Rebuffing all the heralds, she soared high.
He broke her wings.
What once was the pulse of glee,
is now draining tears.
Such change made her perceive:
not every love story a fairy-tale.
O, orchard of love, how sham you are!
Soul Painting Immersing the brush in a glass of water; dipping it in the palette within her left hand mixing up some colours; and then gently gliding the damp thick tip of the brush over the canvas, bringing her imagination to life. She kept doing this for some hours, and paid no heed to the late hour, nor to her sleepy state - for she was about to finish her masterpiece...
Beth is a very talented painter, and a passionate one. Painters usually care too much about details, but she was overly fastidious a person. Her only indulgence existed amongst her painting tools. Her life was a bit of a mess; she was never happy in her social life; she'd got no lover, nor friends, but enough fans. She was deficient in many noble merits that the power of fame had long ago covered - come on who's perfect!- so in real life not everyone liked her personality. As an artist, she could perceive the power of colours; she'd always entertained that colours' greatest power is being so meaningful
UntitledelititnUthe earth was a mug of dirt and water
until milk came from the sky
we drink until standing in
an empty silo.
LizardShe still sheds her skin in daylight,
reforming the past:
just how her cold-blooded species would like it.
TorchesThree trees on the street
I follow on my way each morning
Like Autumn candles held aloft
In defiant vermillion splendor...
Burn bright, my signposts,
Waymarkers in the wheel of my year:
As late November's humors and freezing mists
Surround the bare bones of Autumn Past,
Hold the darkness at bay a little longer
'Til the solstice turns us sunward again.
Love At First SightShrouded in a thin mist,
He stares at me eye level.
I'd only ever seen him from below,
But now I am sky high,
Mesmerized by his breathtaking beauty
Emerging softly from the clouds.
His familiar face brings me peace
As I glide past him in the darkness,
Onward to my destination.
I may never see him this way again,
So I soak in the view,
Memorize his emitting curves of light,
And rest easy as he descends below the horizon once again.
CreekMy feet find
the worn steps
where our feet
have found footing many times before
As I walk down
I become surrounded
hiding me from our gray society
Down at the bottom
a small stream runs
faster than a bullet
and deep enough to swim
Frogs jump away
into the dark water
darting fast and crazily
so I can't see the lovely waters deep
We built a dock down here
so sound and sturdy
so I could sit and watch
nature's glorious aquarium
The water does a crazy thing
and heals my wounds within
while I just sit and smile
watching all the tadpoles learn to swim
StarlightI see the stars listening
There are clouds shaving
Off smoky lumps of white;
Of bright fire
Tears pool down
From their abodes;
Tiny bursts of stars
In gleaming swirling tempests
I am holding its milky eye
In a globe
Curled up like a
Short claws caressing
Of the Night.
The scent of green tea
Heady and whimsical
Plays near Night's open arms
Like a tune from a fiddle
And stars compact
Near Night's vision
Releasing their energy
To the strokes of her
In the tenuous seams
--the little wolf howled
at the night sky,
eyes wide open, and wondered,
how can the moon change shape?
his elder brother replied,
with a snort
and a spiteful gaze
at the crescent above:
it feeds on the souls of stars
it leaves us no scraps
and it surrenders them
to the abyss above
in the form of
just to gorge on more
Desert LifeArid heat permeates the air
broken on rare, savored occasions
by a subtle cool wind which promises
more than it delivers,
barely enough to quench a thirst,
like a single drop of morning dew
midst the forlorn desert.
Watching the landscape pass
indistinguishable, time may be rendered
non-existent, the only changes
I am taken back to a life
in bygone ages, the visions
move through my mind ,
a brutal struggle for life,
an unexpected laissez-faire attitude,
dancing women in long skirts
and garland stockings,
women on a quest to redefine themselves,
men seeking riches, lost in a world
of chance, skin, and booze.
Slowly a strange beauty rises
from the deceptive bareness
for life still thrives in its own quiet way
in inconceivable places.
It speaks an old language
and it smells of dusty earth,
I can almost hear the echoes
of pounding harmers and taste
the scent of sweat and lingering decay
where life and death are scarcely
separated, and one easily becomes
That summer nightSitting amid the silky sand grains
that glisten under the silver moonlight;
contemplating the forth worlds above,
I yearn to comprehend the eerie language -
of those forever-glittering gazing eyes.
The bittersweet northern wind rustles
blowing to me the spray of the mild sea;
I shiver, and then,
breathe in the most exquisite smell;
and along their melody my heart merrily leaps
Among so poetic atmosphere, a comet shines:
lighting up the horizon,
enthralling my soul, and mesmerising my mind,
as it sweeps the sky with its luminous tail -
of magical golden dust, and sparkling water drips.
To my feet I shift my weight to bid
my farewells to the transient guest as
it exists the scene;
drooping my eyelids, drowning in a trance,
I make my wish:
'May all the years' nights be as -
fabulous as this summer's splendid one'
A Guide to Writing DialogueWhat is dialogue, exactly? The definition from Merriam-Webster’s dictionary was several lines long, so I shall summarize it in a short sentence for the sake of the readers; it’s the writing that illustrates conversations between two or more characters in a story. We read and hear it all around us, but creating it in your own work can be a challenge. However, if you find dialogue an obstacle in your writing, then don’t push the panic button. In this tutorial, you’ll find by analyzing what dialogue can do and how to use it, you can turn your greatest fear into your greatest ally in your story.
What dialogue is
Like I’ve asserted before, dialogue is basically what the characters are saying to each other. It can be found in multiple mediums such as books, movies, comics, video games, etc. We even engage in dialogue daily without even thinking. When you talk to your best friend, a co-worker, or even your dog, you create dialogue. It’s exchang
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More