Poem for the Left HandLike a small flame I steady myself.Poem for the Left Hand
I steady myself to steady others.
My warmth and light surrounds and blankets the dark of night.
By my grace they would work 'till their eyes failed.
Then no longer.
And I become a guide.
A protector.
Until morning.
And I'm forgotten and blown out.
Until, inevitably, night comes again.
Dan's Best BirthdayOn the day of Dan's 17th birthday he was forced to go to school. As with every other right-minded student, he hated school. Espically on his birthday. He went to his first two classes and then grabbed a lunch tray and watched as gut wrenching food was piled higher and higher.Dan's Best Birthday
"Ugh." he grimaced when his fork got stuck in his maceroni.
"Why so blue Dan?" a voice whispered in his ear.
Dan whirled and found himself face to face with...nothing. Dan was used to his mind playing tricks on him so he turned his attention back to 'the fork in the food'(SitS). Later that day Dan was driving home when the voice ask
Untitled ch.5“And finally, it is my honor to present the two top students of this graduating class. Bastien Kex and Aaryn Harl.” Headmaster Vortin led the applause.Untitled ch.5
The two students stood up from their seats and walked to the edge of the stage. They were clothed in their finest dress robes; Aaryn in royal blue and Bastien in a deep maroon. Their swords hanging at their sides, and their shields strapped to their backs, newly emblazoned with their respective coat of arms. Tucked into Bastien’s belt was Arduin Demor, the emeralds glinting softly in the light of the setting sun. They looked at each other and grinned and then looked
Easter MorningThe Easter Bunny has come and gone.Easter Morning
Little children with eyes shut tight, morning dew clings to windows.
They awake to the smell of bacon and eggs, rubbing sleep from their eyes.
Rememberence comes with time, feet shoved into slippers.
Not dressing, not eating, racing to the yard, baskets in hand.
One in the tree, behind the rocks, a few not yet discovered in the garden.
Comparing filled baskets, opening brightly colored plastic eggs.
Suprised faces, trading for favorites, candy for breakfast.
Easte
Creative Writing- RantFuck your stupid stubborn bullshit And I hate the way you want things done, And you're not as interesting as you think,Creative Writing- Rant
And if this is a run-on sentence, too fucking bad, By the way I hope it drives you around the bend And you scream and tear your hair out
And have that pained, grumpy expression on your face That you always do anyway,
And I'll laugh like I always do anyway And nothing would be different the next day Because there's nothing more you can do to break me
You pathetic, controlling little shell of a person Who can't stand to be wrong
CLICK HERE
SUP PEOPLE!
Agony
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An artist does not only draw or write! He/she also is able to detail the point of the work! ...the hell is that...Everthings so blurry...
-Klimmtog
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It was anti climactic, period.
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An artist does not only draw or write! He/she also is able to detail the point of the work! ...the hell is that...Everthings so blurry...
-Klimmtog
--
It was anti climactic, period.
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"Art is art, no matter the form. Be it Ballet or Break-Dancin, Georgia O'Keeffe's paintings or my little sister's pre-k drawings, or maybe even T Pain verses the Beetles. It's all Art. Embrace it."-Me
Commission Me!
:iconRainbowboxorzz: Made Me Icon!
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It was anti climactic, period.
Glad to see your story is still flowing along smoothly.
--
An artist does not only draw or write! He/she also is able to detail the point of the work! ...the hell is that...Everthings so blurry...
-Klimmtog
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It was anti climactic, period.
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Freedom is the endemic of all sentient creatures.
--Optimus Prime
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It was anti climactic, period.
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