|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
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
up and out
of their beds -
the sun smiles,
and reaches down
to embrace them
.the rabbits twitch
in their sleep;
of red bitten necks
wet with spit,
the birds dream of their eggs
and runny -
the mice dream of hearing
that tabby cat scream
as the teeth of life rip
unseen in agonizing silence
with no one
to memorialize them,
starfish begin to disintegrate,
dissolving into star dust
which we may unknowingly
breathe in through the
pores of our skin.
Nature reflects nature,
while dead stars
fall blazingly from the sky
in depths perhaps darker
more clandestine than the
entire span of universe
Astoridea break apart
like fireworks as they
begin to evaporate into the air.
When celestial bodies
recklessly plunge to the Earth
the whole world gapes in awe
as if witnessing miracles
but as sea stars
perhaps less gracefully,
more subtly yet possibly
with farther reaching consequence,
are ripped apart as if by
some internal centrifugal force
there is no one left
to recollect the incident,
no applause or tears,
no wishes made upon
their depleting bodies.
Even as they die
they strive to crawl away
from their decaying bodies,
one last grasp at life,
maybe a plea for immortality.
at break of dayDawn rolled in through the garden gate;
we watched pink fingers grasp the edges
of her heather carriage as she emerged.
Sorrow of Songsunlight
morning ocean blue
over rippling waves
which once sung
though now cry
fractured and broken
to be trawled
from the deepest
where musical voices
away from home
they must go
torn from families
that circle deep
sending distress calls
as sun falls
from the sky
from eyes of Vaquita
has now become
And the sun glowed a deep red,
just enough to color the inside
of the room a deep mahogany,
stripes of color on the walls.
And the clouds formed in the distance,
just enough to cradle the sunset.
And as if by magic, the rain fell down,
undisturbed by any wind,
undisturbed by any thoughts.
And I watched in great longing,
wondering what the world has
left for me to witness,
for even if I can not leave this room,
I can see everything just outside.
I watch as the color fades from the sky,
and the mahogany turns a brilliant lapis,
and then to nothing.
As the clouds reflect the last gasp of magenta,
As the world fades to black, the rain dies down,
reflecting what little color remains,
and then I turn on the lights.
Little OwlShy leaves sway in wind
the sky bleeds, raindrops
the flowers huddle together
A gentle breath from glass lungs.
A little owl sits
high above the world
eyes flicker back and forth, see
the light of a forgotten moon.
Wind chimes echo, scatter
acrylic sun rays
birds peck at the empty shells
of once loved soliloquies
in a pool
Crystal, sky blue
in the air.
Clear cloud white
bubbles bursting with
warm summer sunlight.
The cool beauty
against your skin
takes your breath away.
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'
Keep in Touch!
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