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The StampedeAll's quiet in the valley
Anticipation in the air
Across the land
Blow gusts of sand
For there's nothing living there.
A metronomic rumble
Interrupts the very earth
Sands are quaking,
Rocks are shaking
Now for all that they are worth.
From far off in the distance
The source will soon appear
Now running east
Are becoming very clear.
As they stampede ever closer
They change the barren scene
With each new beat,
Beneath their feet
The hardened ground turns green.
As vibrations grow in violence,
Water flows from broken stones
To wash away
The shades of gray
And the dehydrated bones.
The stampede quickly fades out
As sudden as its start
But faded pounding
Keeps on sounding
Like a living, beating heart.
Burnsnap crackle pop
A thousand roman candles burn across the skies
Brightly, so intensely that it hurts the eyes,
Leaving stars on lids long after they stop
Burning. Burning. Everything's burning.
Eyes, skies, passions, hearts, souls,
Fire-like, without control
Dancing, jumping, sweating, yearning
The only difference between us and those candles is that we won't stop burning.
Eyes closed, eyes open, still the same
Feed the fire, stoke the flame
In my head, the lights won't fade,
Illuminating tomorrow with yesterdays.
So burn on, my fabulous roman candles.
Light my way.
The Sailor"All aboard..."
The lone man on the deck bowed his head and sighed.
He was the only one, but he'd made up his mind
To traverse the mighty waters on his little boat,
Just praying to God that he could stay afloat.
He pushed off from the harbor and set out to sea,
Though the destination still remained a mystery,
He looked to the horizon quite determinedly
And tried his best not to fear.
He sailed on for several days, feeling out of place,
Wishing just this once for a familiar face
But after starting out there was no turning back,
So he hoisted the sails and picked up the slack.
With no places to hide, he must face the wind:
He still had his ship, even without a friend.
All alone on the water, he stuck out his chin
And told himself this was right.
At night the icy waters made an eerie scene,
Reflecting the skies with their blues and greens.
The moonlight danced on floating ice and snow,
A midnight waltz that only few will know.
A frightening sort of beauty 'twas that met his eyes
...Isn't it?Isn't it funny
How naturally a baby cries?
Unusual to do otherwise,
As if it knows the blackened skies,
The hopeless sighs
In the world it's born into.
Isn't it sad
How naughty little kids find joy
In taunting every girl and boy?
As if emotions were mere toys,
And pleas just noise
So easily discarded.
Isn't it strange
When suddenly there is a face,
Which once had been so commonplace,
That starts to speed the cold heart's pace?
Now filled with grace
He's utterly astounded.
It's just life
When last lies down the weary head.
The friends all gather round the bed
And though the final rites are read
He is not dead,
Just passing through with a smile.
Green light, red light How do you do, my dear old friend?
I can't believe it's been four years
Since the last time I was here
(Will you love me again?)
Oh, you know I got here finally
I've just had a lot to do
Things I never got around to
(Would you be mine, please?)
But once I settle those things
I'd like to sit and talk about the old days
So many things have changed since we went away
(Would you take this ring?)
The last time I saw you was so long ago...
You should really meet my husband Tom
I just know you two would get along.
(I guess that's a no...)
VisitationsLate one night when light was gone
And darkness was complete
I heard a sound, around I looked,
In fear from head to feet.
No sight did meet nor greet my eyes,
The room was dark as Hell.
But again so faint, a dainty ring,
The chiming of a bell.
There came a glow, I know not how
Or from whence it came
It formed a ghost, twas most surprising
To find I knew his name.
Tis but a dream, it seems old self,
A dream and nothing more,
For I know that ghosts dont post themselves
As watchmen by my door.
I am not dead, he said at last.
Im living yet, you see.
Though you were right, Im not quite a ghost,
Merely a memory.
"What you see now is how I was
The last you saw my face.
My gift to you: to view the past
For Im the Spirit of Yesterdays.
"Your life was glad, no sad heartache
Would you have found back then.
Though bar one link, you think youre done,
And that you wont see joy again.
I reached to him, a glimmer of li
Night Life "Not enough hours in the day? Au contraire! There are not enough hours in the night!"
They say that there's not enough daytime
But oh, I should like to protest
For when you compare with the night hours
Darkness will win, no contest
There are so many things to accomplish
And daylight will just not suffice
You can rob, steal, lie, murder, or gamble
When it's nighttime, who needs to play nice?
You can dance with the devil, gab with the ghosts,
Brew potions 'til witches grow green,
Pillage and plunder, tear spirits asunder,
Night is the time for all things obscene!
Who needs the dazzling daytime
With the splendid black richness of night?
There aren't enough hours, nor minutes, nor seconds,
So screw that accursed sunlight!
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More