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Eternal PunishmentWhat is reality...? Reality is just a series of events and players acting out what you believe to be real. When we accept that fact, then our world becomes "reality."
Now... entertain this thought... and imagine this "reality."
Where darkness covered the land...Where a city floated in the sky while the Earth below was devastated. Where you watch your best friend die right in front of you....
Now, imagine that it had never happened.
What is reality, besides a mirror of our thoughts ad expectations? But, what if this reality was not a mirror of us, but another reality on the Other Side.
What if you started remembering things that happened in that reality, and not your own?Deja vu, if you will. Now, what if you met someone from that reality? What if the two started to mix and the boundaries began to crumble?
Would you be prepared to look through the mirror... or would you run from that horrible fate?
This story deals with just such an event. A boy named Tatsuya Suou has returned from that
Forevermore."Oh Marissa, you haven't changed."
What? Excuse me?
Negatory. No way.
You smile so blankly and laugh it off, as I smile back and threaten to pounce.
I haven't changed at all?
It's been four long years since I left you all.
Four long years since I trudged away from that darkness.
Back then I used to be so feeble.
So weak, coiled, and ready to pounce.
My mind and heart was an open book; as were my feelings, ready for attack.
I swung aimlessly from high to low, switching from shouts to tears in matters of seconds.
I couldn't control myself, and neither could anyone else.
People abandoned me then.
You weren't one but eventually you did.
You promised that when I moved nothing would change. We would continue to be what we always were, comrades fighting through life.
But when I left things changed.
You became hateful towards me, every word filled with the venom and malice that flicked off your Adder's tongue.
You became sweet and deceitful, like the most patient devil working for
Staying AboveBurning anger rises like bile in my throat
I choke it down, and pretend to smile
A painful hurt pierces my chest
I bite my lip and take the pain
Careless whispers and burning stares drift my way
I raise my head and continue to walk on
Verbal snake-tongued lashes and harassment filled devilish eyes
My heart beats faster as I keep my head turned forward
Uneasy pressure closes in tighter, your "best friend" joins forces with your enemy
I suck in a deep breath and enjoy this bit of irony
You continue to warp the facts in your head, I keep my mouth sealed tight
If anyone wants to know, I will show them proof
Vicious words dive in my direction like burning arrows
I let them sink into my back as I refuse to do the same
I zip my lips shut tight as you sink lower and lower
I will not be a player in your silly little game
I move on through my life silently, pausing to appreciate the people who saved me
The people who never left my side, no matter the distance
I wake up early to visit the elderly
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
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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