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Godchaser - Prologue   Brother Francis’ foot caught on an uneven brick. He lurched forward, his breath caught in the stitch in his chest; he stumbled, and his dress shoes scraped across the wet cobblestone as he managed to stop. He straightened up, his chest heaving and his glasses askew, but his arms still anchored to Gabriel’s shoulders. His two comrades had abruptly stopped when he tripped; the bishops’ quickly whipped their heads around and stared at him, wide-eyed, their faces nearly as white as their robes – their fear seemed to emit an eerie luminescence to the early evening.
   “Brother-,”
   “Not now,” Francis gasped shortly as he urged the two onward, “We don’t have the time!”
   The one holding Gabriel’s left leg nodded and turned around; the one on the right visibly gulped – his Adam’s apple protruding like a large white stone from his thin sweaty neck – and shot a
Darkened PerfectionJoin us here, we welcome you
to a world of wonder and joy
no outcasts here, just perfection
doesn't your life seem void

tears fall not
dreams are found
let the hardships of life flee from you
no need to feel down

come young child
into the world of darkened perfection
where mirrors are not needed
for who needs a reflection
~Cookies, Brother, Large Field~the crumbs fall from your mouth
as you take the last bite.
the pastry tasted amazing, like you remembered.

you sit back in your chair,
close your eyes with a simple smile,
and let the memories rush back...

spinning.
the colors are spinning around your eyes.
when you stop, the colors settle
into your surroundings.

you are 5 again
in your favorite field,
the ones with the buttercups you used to pick and bring home.

and your brother was there too.

he was 20 years old that day
and he said as a present to himself
he wanted to spend the whole day with you.
so you chose your safe place,
your field.

he had lifted you up and spun yo
Pencil SkirtI am a pencil skirt –
A pinstriped business card on bronze stilettos.

I decline
1. The choker at my neck
2. Ribbons to dress my mane
3. Colored glass for my ears

In favor of
1. A bonus at my desk
2. Plaques to dress my wall
3. A trinket for my shipyard

I sleep beside the bleached bones of my suitors.
The radiator rattle protects my four-digit wages
From girlish distractions -
From famished sighs wrestled out by tired fingers.
Imaginary FriendI once had a friend.
That was made of pretend,
Who's only friend was me.
We played all alone,
Just all on our own.
Down on the hills,
And the trees.

We ran through the woods,
Jumped in the hills,
And played in the dark,
Because we lived for the thrills.
We went on our journeys,
And time would stand still.
The world would change,
Because it was our will.

Then came the days…
My friend started to fade.
We no longer spoke,
We just sat in the shade.
And as we sat silent
We looked at the sky .
My friend left for the last time,
Without a goodbye.
I guess the fact is.
They were no longer shy.

I once had a friend,
I tho
Visible as AirIt seems like they're all so perfect, and you can't measure up.
You go unnoticed; as visible as air.
All that hard work, endless hours of it gone to waste,
Because someone else did it better than you
You feel as if you really aren't as good as you think
Confidence begins to fade and you hit an all time low
When all you really want is for the curtains to roll back
You at center stage basking in the spotlight
Even if for a moment you want to feel
as if you truly aren't as visible as air.
Ellie, Thursday,October 4th, 2012
My DarknessThe way my world was covered in darkness.
It all started one day when I was a young girl
   I was innocent
       Had not a care in the world
I loved to dance and sing
My long white dress spinning with me as I turned and turned
My arms stretched in the warm sun
My long black hair tangles
   It covers my face and makes me blind
But I am happy

Outside I danced
Behind an old forgotten building
   It was covered in vines and decay
Outside I danced
   Next to a thin river
       It flowed clear and pure
           Coins shinned at the bottom as they reflected the sun
Outside I danced
Until she saw another girl dancing with me

The girl l
38. trustIt is a matter of perception
And is also a matter of interpretation
Trust, a funny thing it truly is
But how do we live our lives around it?

Do you trust me because you know me
Or is that the reason for your distrust?

You have parts of me
That no one else will ever have
But you seem to be unaware
Or is it just not enough?

I trusted you because you never gave me a reason not to
But now that you have, how do I piece it back together?

I am lost in my mind
As the realizations set in
What I had not seen at first
Is slowly setting in

Is it worse to have suspicion though nothing done
Or betray promises made to seek your own truth?

* Nomad*Time of change, years ago
Since then life's bittersweet
Cold seeped into my life force
Engenders in me greatest remorse.

History coloured many days
Odd wonderous moments enjoyed
Benjamin Disraeli kissed my hand
His charm I managed to withstand.

Was presented at Russian court
Dressed in white my favours sort
More than a few was tempted to bite
So kept my fangs well out of sight.

Napoleon Bonaparte Corsican upstart
Eventually exiled to Elba
I dined on him, his blood was thin
Was obvious to me he would not win.

Life of change yet one wish denied
How I should love to turn back time
Not possible yet it's torture for me
So many people would dis
White RoseI'm searching for a white rose
Among a sea of crimson red
That litter the field in countless throes
Looking for life among the dead

I see one withered black rose,
And one red with gleaming thorns,
But not a hint of white within the rows
Of both the old and the newborns

I stop and sit to take a rest,
Watching blue skies give into red,
Holding this hope within my breast
That I might find life among the dead

I have been searching all my life
As countless others did before me,
Searching for the truth among questions rife,
For a hint of white among a red sea

And forever I will search the field
Where the red roses thrive,
Hoping f
Swordsmen's DuelTheir swords clashed heavily in the cool midnight air.  The resulting sparks briefly enhancing the light of the stars and moon.  Locked in a stalemate, the two combatants jumped away from one another before closing the distance once more.  The two of them were rivals in every sense of the word, matching each other slash for slash, and parry to parry.  They used no shields, for those things only serve to limit offensive strategy.  Relying on the cold pieces of steel held tightly in each of their hands, it was almost poetic how the two struggled to best one another.

The younger fighter having more raw talent than his superior was too worn out
Desta's Workshop      Desta had set up her workshop in some kind of abandoned Post-Treaty castle or something—based on the state of disrepair, it had clearly gone unused for many generations. The castle was settled almost claustrophobically at the base of the Stlakmite Spires (Noringers were not known for their creativity), surrounded on all sides by sheer, moss-covered cliffs, their walls deeply rutted by dozens of rushing waterfalls. The castle grounds were enormous compared to most anything else in the northern area of Noringen, but Desta used only a small portion of it: namely, the detached chapel, which—because it had been on the lee side of
The Page of Promise: A Winter Solstice TaleIn the depths of a night that's about to begin
with the feeling of snow as it melts on your skin
and it covers the land with a dream so intense
that it returns us all to a child's innocence
And then what you'd thought lost and could never retrieve
is suddenly there to be found on Christmas Eve
-Trans-Siberian Orchestra

The sound of her boots breaking the snow is delicate and light, like meditated, unhurried piano notes. She walks gracefully between the pine trunks, their needles making a cover for falling snow above her head. Her face, a frozen petal of porcelain, eyes of crystalline frost, is framed by the hood of her white, fur-lined
Oneiroid"Battle not with monsters, lest you become a monster"

My favorite part of her was her skeleton, slender, delicate and elaborately designed. I loved her spine, they way it curved into my hands. Even more lovely were the simple, graceful wings of her clavicles. Entranced as I was with the elegant mechanics of her hands, I could not help but hold them in mine with reverence.
I remember the way she lay crumpled on the bed, sheets flowing around her like waves. I remember the delicate veins in her wrists and the slight bend in her knees that brought her long, sharply-arched feet to mine. I remember with incredible clarity, as if at this very mo
JOURNAL OF ENCOUNTERS WITH NUADA - Part 1I was born and raised on earth, neither of royal nor of noble birth, but by parents of noble temperament. True to our race, we lived for short periods of time, in many places. My favorite was a small village, nestled in a wide valley surrounded by rolling green hills. The forests and meadows were my playground by day, the moon and the stars, my playmates by night. Unlike others of my race, I preferred a life of peace and solitude.

By the time I reached the Age of Understanding, my family had settled in a community made up of various races, races not traditionally known for their inclination to integrate. Though set apart by racial and cultur
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More from ~MoreThanKarisma

Chapter 3: Laugh it Off
 Cords of heat tensed around Kody's veins as he flexed and scraped the iron along the ground. Shards of glass jumped and skittered away. One by one, his fingers released and then rewrapped around the tire iron.
           His eyes were wrong, dull and distant, like he was looking at something far away. He narrowed his eyes.
          Skid.
          Scrape.
          Kody snapped his eyes back to Justin. "Hey."
          Justin hesitated. "Yeah?"
          Kody flung the tire iron up, right beside Justin's right ear. He pointed past Justin like a judge declaring his verdict.
          "I think we're about to get fucked." In the
Chapter 2: The Matador
     Jennifer snatched up a red book bag and stuffed it with anything useful she could find. The water bottle Bo left in her room. A notebook and a pen. It took her a while to find the lock pick kit. She lifted the small black flap. She had long since broken the s-rake, but the torsion wrench was still there and worth a few more uses, along with the ball rake and the short hook.
           She opened her closet door. She wasn't neat enough to actually hang clothes up, so taking the metal pole down wasn't any problem. She hefted it uncertainly.
           With backpack shouldered, she grabbed her keys and locked the door behind her.
   
Chapter 1: The Proposal
     Barking tickled Virginia's ears, but Bo's shouting drowned out the noise.
    Arguing with Kealey again.

    Kealey was tall and lean. Peering, soft and hapless. While most lose their wonder, Kealey still thought he could be anything if he wanted it badly enough.
    He just couldn't be her lover.
    Bo was just Bo. Loud, opinionated, and far too understanding. Damn, how Virginia loved him.

    "Hey girls, want a beer?" Bo teased. Virginia and Abby rolled their eyes and flashed him a wolfish grin.

    The T.V. broke to a news report. "-reports of unprecedented violence and rioting. Scientists haven't been able to- ."

    "

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[x]

The Silver Child

:iconmorethankarisma:

Father bore me of the bellows
Woke me by night to beat me
Stroke by stroke
Drew a fire
Beat me
Turned me over
Beat again

And father told me I was incomplete

He took me outside
The wind didn't whistle like I thought it would
The birds didn't sing
No rain weeping a rat-a-tat rally
No crickets pulling their bows
Father bathed me
Father drowned me

And father told me I was the silver child

Father hammered out the dents
Lonely twangs belted against an angry anvil
Father sheathed me in gold
Pretended I was pure
The first son not to shatter
The first son not to be sold

And father told me I was complete
:iconmorethankarisma:
Just a poem from the point of view of a sword.
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:iconpestomonkey:
Mood: Love *pestomonkey Oct 14, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
That's kinda beautiful.
Reply
:iconmorethankarisma:
Mood: Love ~MoreThanKarisma Oct 14, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
That's kinda flattering? :3
Thanks starshine. <3
Reply
:iconsilvergabetha834:
~silvergabetha834 Oct 14, 2012  Professional General Artist
Wow. it freaked me out at first because I thought it was a real child. Then I got to the silver and gold part and was like... waaaaaaait a minute. So I read it again as a sword and it's super cool. I love how you did that little twist. The repetition of the "father told me" line was really nicely done, too.

Still, this is the best part:
"He took me outside
The wind didn't whistle like I thought it would
The birds didn't sing
No rain weeping a rat-a-tat rally
No crickets pulling their bows
Father bathed me
Father drowned me"

It's almost like a song at this point, with the sound of the rain, the repetition of "Father... me"

I have goose bumps now. Thank you!
Reply
:iconmorethankarisma:
Mood: Cheerful ~MoreThanKarisma Oct 14, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much! <3

The first draft was AWFUL but I like it like this. Like I said in a previous comment, some of the students in my class thought they needed to call protective services. XD A few people got it immediately though. Fantasy fans I guess. XD
Reply
:iconsilvergabetha834:
~silvergabetha834 Oct 14, 2012  Professional General Artist
We do have a dark streak... well... I do anyway. Reeeeeeally dark. Just to warn ya...
Reply
:iconkittysib:
Mood: Joy ~KittySib Oct 14, 2012
Interesting!:D
Reply
:iconzireael07:
~Zireael07 Oct 14, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
This is brilliant!
Reply
:iconmorethankarisma:
Mood: Love ~MoreThanKarisma Oct 14, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you. <3
Reply
:iconthemonkeystan:
Mood: Love ~TheMonkeyStan Oct 14, 2012  Student Filmographer
Flipin' epic!!
MASTERPIECE!
HURRAH!
Reply
:iconmorethankarisma:
Mood: Love ~MoreThanKarisma Oct 14, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Wow. I'm flattered. Thank you. :)
Reply
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