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Dark PaletteShards cascade from crystallized tears
scorn found in empty liquor bottles
marble floors etched in mauve hues.
Linen discarded days after the rain
broken headstones lay at my feet
tarnished silver represent complete disgrace.
Fear swallowed as bitter emotions
boil beneath rusty springs.
Bleak surroundings; dim hope
scours dirty dishes; mold attaches itself
the day her love blew everything away
droplets of self esteem fester between
invisible conversations between you and I.
Screams go unheard years pass by
bedroom walls tainted with a dark palette
mixed with salmon and mauve.
StifledAutumn leaves cascade
living essence left silent
cold wind bellows through
each layer of memory of you.
Glass shreds lonely nights
where you once held her tight.
Crows caw your name
echoes barricade future plans.
Temptations tread softly
with each passing day
verbiage burns bright.
Embers aglow; match smolders
she feels out of place
exasperated and scared.
Blizzard swirls coldness scorches
faded fervor ignites frozen flames
singed from love's brutal games.
Insignificant touch; hate bubbles
over as she digs a hole
glass shreds lonely nights
when you once held her tight.
Haunting voices agitate
present moment intensifies
shuffling and scratching from within
muffled sarcasm silenced forevermore.
Anger subsides as she walks away
leaving you buried in
an unmarked grave
as the crows call out your name.
SilverConversations back and forth,
endless montage of uncensored words spew.
Superficial emotions scatter between
dusty sheets of fictitious innuendos.
Thoughts once preserved now falter consistently,
beliefs stretch boundaries.
Singleness had aspects she could not comprehend
the moment when her glass heart shattered
with each word he spoke.
Was it regret that she felt?
Asphyxiated as blood spewed from within her core
screams unheard for miles.
Ominous dreams forsake love once more.
Etched in TreesThoughts etched incriminate
speculated relations suture displeasure
creativity silenced; set in stone
melodies haunt waking moments.
Dreams carved in barren trees
lay there broken beyond repair
why dam it does he say he cares?
Scars bleed occasionally; no one believes.
She falters momentarily; flashbacks inconsistent
one step too far, cascading down the stairs
arguments never cease.
Act your age is all he says
when things don't go his way
each day they drift further apart.
he once had her heart
no longer does the sparkle shine
now it bleeds scars of past regrets
SavageInternal disarray screams out today
channels of common disgrace
no longer just a number
yet still out of place.
Hunger breeds contempt
from within; fear subsides
tears catatonic, emotions submerge
darkness creeps slowly in.
she slays the confusion away
you are not taking me this time
love smolders; embers of life
slowly fall in time.
Intimidation scathe innocence
his voiceless words haunt
her waking dreams
the inability to create
has left her helpless and disgraced.
emotions flutter endlessly
translucent scars slither silently
beneath facades of breathlessness
water bubbles with every breath
decisions falter within uslessness.
heart becomes limp,
words uttered silently she screams leave me be.
why does he not hear what she says
fleeting memories decrease in time.
mirror reflections shatter with every lie he tells
tired momevements intolerance undetermined
fragmented daydreams emerge as words sung
life on hold as creative juices stop her dead in her tracks
blinded by life, faltered uncontrollable
people slaughter her in every way
reality skims the surface without a trace
words once flowed
now they sputter out without making sense.
determental degrees divulge empathic emptiness
without regard to surroundings
she's drowning in her own apathetic dysfunction.
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More