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Empty Pages.You are the perfect story,
A plot unfurling from your touch,
And poetry in your eyes.
You speak with golden glory,
Into sentences of hate,
And promises of lies.
You are the book
I never had the words to write.
Kiss Me, Melancholy.I live for sin,
And vie for lies.
My heart is gone,
My kingdom fell.
There stands a cross on ivory skin,
Between two crystal eyes.
Empty echoes of demons moan,
But sewn up lips can never tell.
I bleed with tears,
And laugh from pain.
I sold my soul,
To buy your heart.
There lies a coffin filled with years,
With corpses drowning in the rain.
So here's our drama, assume your role,
And await the show to start.
I once fell for sane man's folly,
And scorned your ivory hips.
My empty soul filled with malice,
On that frozen day you fell.
So kiss me, Melancholy,
Drain the life from my lips.
Abduct me from this golden palace,
And lie with me in Hell.
Skeletal System.My vessel
as vacant as
a gaping grave
because I put everything
into loving you
I am a
The Sandmen. December air creeps in through the crack in the window. Moonbeams flow into the room, casting blue light on the walls. I back further into the shadows and watch him as he sleeps. I was supposed to kill him months ago, but I couldn’t. And so I lied. I lied to the Order and told them he was dead, offering them the soul of some decrepit peasant as substitute.
He stirs and whimpers, another nightmare. That always happens to the ones whose time is drawn.
I sweep my hand above his eyes to banish the horrific visions. “Sweet dreams,” I whisper into his ear.
You humans, you mortals, you all have so many opinions of us, so many variations. Many of you believe us to be one little man, entering homes and banishing darkness from children’s slumber. Others imagine us to be a monster, stealing dreams and feeding on fear. Neither theory is entirely correct, nor entirely wrong.
There is not just one Sandman,
A Funeral Parlor Story.Ye shall gather
And all shall mourn,
Read the simple invitation
Sent to everyone in town.
“A funeral for whom?”
They all wanted to know.
But even the mortician had no clue.
“No one has died,” said he,
“No bodies this week.”
October 15, was the given date
For the whole town to meet.
And on that day they all did gather,
Despite the full confusion,
For they desired to learn
The mysterious note’s conclusion.
When they arrived
An ebony casket,
Lined in violet velvet,
Opened wide without a body
Crowned the pale, elegant room.
“What is this?” They ask each to the other.
“Who died?” A child says to her mother.
No one knew
Just what this all was for,
Yet they sat in rows
Overflowing the door.
“Welcome here, my guests.”
A pleasant voice called.
And everyone stared in wonder
At the man upon the stage.
Virgil St. Claire,
The town recluse
Was all dressed up in a designer suit.
“Why are you all here?” He desire
Transformers: We Came in WarTransformers: We Came in War
Setting: Sometime during the Bay films
Characters: Optimus Prime
We came to this planet because ours was gone.
The quest for power consumed our home. The need for domination destroyed us. Still we live, and yet there is a piece in each of us that has been decimated forever. We will never recover what we have lost.
I look down upon this planet, and I wonder why we try.
It is evident by now that we have lost the capacity for peace. War follows in our wake. We came to retrieve the AllSpark, which has long since been lost, and we are still here. All that came of attempting to revive our planet was the relocation of the war from our planet of death to this planet of life. There is so much life on this planet. All of it we have sworn to protect. This is the promise we have made to them. But the promise would not need to have been made if we had never co
dead dog julyI.
the summer heat lays limp in the city’s lap,
breathing long oppressive breaths.
it does not even lift its lolling head
to bark out hoarse indignancy
when a strange man brings the mail.
there might be heavy rain today,
brought by some swollen, murmuring cloud.
the world will whirl and howl,
then settle down,
to die a little more.
o, quickly, love,
press your back against the wall in fear
as the universe spreads her arms and
shuts her eyes
and starts to summon the end of all things.
come with me
to the place of windows full of speechless afternoon
hot windy whispers of half-formed solutions and resolutions,
sweltering sunlit meadows we’ll wander and then forget.
o quickly, love,
let’s to the season of forgetting
and unwind all of our harshest memories
and fill the universe’s mouth
with mute cotton.
i’ll whisper these words to you some evening
with all my exigency in the hand i rest on your arm—
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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