The purveyor of these times thrashes against the will of the people,
A writhing leviathan trapped in arcane times;
The radicals of yesterday have become today's conservatives.
Simple words generated to confuse the simple mind,
Definitions not even the author truly understands.
Rabid speech, knowingly misinterpreted, yet never corrected.
Brought to power through fear of overwhelming might and subjective punishment,
His reign of terror now going into the west.
He bears his fangs in a last exercise of waning power,
Teeth of the beast set in a glass jaw.
Broken wings,
Scaffolds for lies,
Spread wide like a crystal spider web; as bea
I feel it
Eating
Chewing
Gnawing
Twisting
Wriggling
Writhing.
When will it end?
Do I have the strength to let go?
CAN I let go?
Do I HAVE to let go? Or can I hold on until I destroy myself?
Why do I have to let go?
Wouldnt it have worked?
Cant we give it just one more try?
Do things have to be this way?
Why would something that felt so amazing and was so real hurt so much when it ends?
Why?
Because it WAS so real.
And thats just it.
It WAS.
It WAS real.
It WAS everything.
It IS the past.
And reality HURTS.
Now
I let it eat at me still more.
Let it devour me.
This cancer.
And as I remember how gre
Bryan Hartman awoke with a start at 6:00 a.m. He was surprised at how cold he had gotten in his sleep. Somehow during the night his window had come ajar and had allowed the icy air into his home. He glanced out his window; the wind was whipping outside, tearing across the Berring Sea as if being driven by demons. With the frequent and intense waves pounding against the dock, it became apparent that there were going to be rough waters this season. It was January 31, the first day of the Opilio season.
The view seemed familiar yet strange to Bryan. He had never really taken the time to examine the city that inhabited Dutch Harbor;
Its been exactly one year now. One year since everything changed. One year since my life was swept away in a torrent of chaos. And one year later, now I return so see my home, or whats left of it.
My name is Maurice Marseilles. I am 57 years old. As you probably can tell by my name, I am a descendent of one of the first French colonists in the New World; specifically New Orleans. Since about the 17th century, my family has lived in this part of the country and watched it grow and prosper into what it has become today. But now that is all gone after the unforgiving hand of God has swept through our city and not just destr
The purveyor of these times thrashes against the will of the people,
A writhing leviathan trapped in arcane times;
The radicals of yesterday have become today's conservatives.
Simple words generated to confuse the simple mind,
Definitions not even the author truly understands.
Rabid speech, knowingly misinterpreted, yet never corrected.
Brought to power through fear of overwhelming might and subjective punishment,
His reign of terror now going into the west.
He bears his fangs in a last exercise of waning power,
Teeth of the beast set in a glass jaw.
Broken wings,
Scaffolds for lies,
Spread wide like a crystal spider web; as bea
Current Residence: wouldn't you like to know? Favourite genre of music: DEATH METAL MP3 player of choice: MP3 player? me? CD's baby. old school. Shell of choice: what? Skin of choice: the one i was born with? Favourite cartoon character: Venom
I just posted three poems that I've had for a while and just recently organized. Check them out!!
SCHOOOOOOOOOL'S OUT. So now I have waaaay more time to draw. And that means more deviations soon!!!!!!!
Things to look for:
Leonidas, King of Spartans
Great Horned Dragon (flying)
Venom
Seven-Headed Dragon (Satan from "Revelations")
Sabre (that's "say-ber")
Silent Hill: Red Pyramid Demon
Friends in real life:
~asanashia (https://www.deviantart.com/asanashia) :icondeviantgirl223:
Friends:
:iconadonihs: :iconShadowgrail: :icongunnerromantic: :iconnamesjames: :iconGuzman231: :iconPem30: :iconcurlyhairedkaiju: :iconcaramitten: :iconzhuzhu: :iconkankakanka: :iconthedynamic