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LIMERICK FOR OLD ROMEO Clodia, Catullus wrote Rome,
that you could but open your home
to my swift hot invasion,
and don't mar the occasion,
with lauds to that dolt - Cicero! Hm!
199TH DECADE EXTRACT It opened its three hundred and first eye, a misted lens in the face of stone. A pupil appeared, a black fly staring out and down through amber. There it moved, left, hesitantly right, then down again. Then sank back leaving the glass eye blind with damp light. After a moment, suddenly, the thing returned, dashed through the glass, toppled, fell out and down, past three hundred closed eyes, down. The concrete features hardly shrugged when the fragile shadow kicked the pavement, shattering near-soundlessly.
Seemingly massless, with boring slowness, a shadow left its crowd, caterpillared towards the shards. Now a matt piece of reflection topped its headhair, unwillingly lingering. The tortoise motion ended; a shell now stood absorbing the fleeing life this carcass had sipped up in its socket. The standing shadow stubbed the slumped one once with its foot, then its hair shook its reluctant reflection from side to side.
"She didn't even
Heartless......no moreShe needed space like the rest...
She left one instead in his chest...
Remained no heart to be broken
For the words already spoken,
From a confronted confess -
"You are so heartless"
Felt like his insides hollowed;
Felt like he was being followed,
By a black cloud o' lies
Rainin misery and despise.
Put up a wall and fences;
Brought up his defenses.
With pills and a session.
To himself he's confined
Else but heartbreak on his mind
A month or two passed by..
Facing the reality he's tryin to Deny.
Morbid memories he dismembers
And then he remembers....
To get somewhere wholehearted
The secret is getting started..
.. started with a day in the park
..couple o' hours before the dark
Alone in his own zone
Mathers chantin on the headphone
Caught somethin across the aisle
A beaming, beautiful smile.
More than just a few HEYs
Same went for a few day
Talked on and until late
Turned to a dinner at 8
Her beauty, grace and smile,
Life was again wort
My Love The ShipwreckMy love was a shipwreck deep under the sea,
a silent and watery prison for me.
With corners so silent and robes full of death,
and lips that could capture my every breath.
Fingers that groped quite like long strands of kelp,
dragging me down when I begged them for help.
A body as pale as a skeleton sunk,
wrapping me up in a tidewater trunk.
Dragging my tongue across decks made of night,
tangled in rigging that delayed my flight.
Dredging for anchors that didn't exist,
never quite knowing to cease and desist.
The crow's nest held views eternally blank.
Eyeglass-horizons so cloudy and dank.
Ghost-hunting sails without wind from afar,
with watery eyes staring up at the stars.
Drinking deep of a poison more potent than rum;
sobbing for gallows that just wouldn't come.
Walking on sandbars with no relative end,
fantastical promises just 'round the bend.
Screaming out into trenches as deep as the earth.
Discovering death when I wanted birth.
A face utterly haunting could drag me deep d
Let MeLet me touch your chest
To make sure your heart's beating.
Let me feel your breath
To make sure you're still breathing
Tell me how I look
To make sure you still see me.
Tell me sweet nothings
So I can think you still love me.
The Beating of a HeartThe beating of a heart,
Is more than just a sound,
It's the tune of a music hall,
Crowded all around.
The band takes its seats,
The conductor in his place,
A mysterious song,
Takes up a quickened pace.
Will this be in harmony?
Are we a strong duet?
Is this just a solo?
All I can do is fret.
The tempo of my heart,
Is beating out of time,
It's jumping from my soul,
And making my love rhyme.
Frustration surrounds me,
Staccato all around,
My heart's in double forte,
With each and every pound.
It turns into a waltz,
Then a jazzy tune,
This song is too confusing,
All I can do is swoon.
The song inside my heart,
A ballad of the best,
It's turning to allegro,
And running from my chest.
As the melody slows,
A fermata is all that stands,
The audience will pause,
Then join together all their hands.
Our tango was played well,
But I am at a loss,
What is this feeling?
My eyes feel quite cross.
Shadouge part 5Mierda…lo arruine todo parece que no tengo suerte pensaba mientras salía de la habitación
“Coronel Mark está bien como se siente quiere que lo ayude realmente lo siento no sé por qué shadow hizo eso ese tonto no se que le paso” dijo nerviosa rouge
“Jeje está bien hace mucho que no me golpean así, el tiene mucha fuerza, y si no te preocupes rouge yo estoy bien porque estoy acá contigo preciosa gracias por ayudarme jeje bueno mejor ya voy a ponerme algodón no quiero mancharme de sangre“dijo el coronel
“Está bien mark iré a buscar una enfermera, le avisare que lo revise y buscare a shadow hablare con el coronel adiós” dijo rouge con un tono triste
Adiós… mi sacerdotisa hermosa pensó mark
“Hola podrías ir a la habitación 115 a ver al coronel gracias enfermera“dijo rouge
Rouge empezó a caminar por todo el hospita
Shall I be a Shakespeare?Shall I be a Shakespeare
And compare you to a summers day?
Or be like any other poet
And draw comparisons between you and May?
I shall see you as the autumn months,
When leaves turn brown and fall.
The trees look much more beautiful
When clad in brazen pall.
Or perhaps you are the winter,
A snowflake that glitters with dawn.
Long nights of comfort before a fire.
A time to smile, instead of mourn.
They say these are both times of death,
Where no beauty can be found.
But beauty depends on where you look,
Even in steel-grey sky and iron-hard ground.
Though you hold not the fires of summer,
Nor the new life that's brought by spring,
The strength of winter and grace of autumn
Are greater, to me, than both those things.
You are a magnificent beauty
With a heart, supposedly, of gold.
But like the autumn, and the winter,
It's a shame you're just as cold.
Death and Wrath: The Twisted EmbraceDeath sat upon his chiselled throne
Wrath in hand
a prisoner, of chance
a lover, perhaps
Life seemed so senseless,
boring; not a struggle
temptation was easy; but yet, they always stay
so well behaved
upon a throne of lies
Death looked to her
Her eyes alive
she craved the blood
of a thousand men
But he loved
yet not another being
The blood came fast
She looked to him
his eyes, dead
he was human, but
She was not
she adored him so
but in pitiful grace
She held him close
and forever, remained
the blood, that ran
Down the lovers' arms
dried, it cracked
it never stayed
The lovers stayed enticed
in a twisted embrace
forever they would stay
in this hell-like trace...
Quando os níveos ferrões da noite intensa
Inoculam-me tóxica peçonha
Que leva-me à tristeza mais medonha
E causa-me ao espírito descrença;
Quando a palavra aos lábios meus é densa
E, congelado em sólida vergonha,
À noite, solitário, já não sonha
Este ser de esperança tão imensa;
Dentre as nuvens noturnas eis que surge
Aquela que nas tênebras se insurge
Contra as trevas em tétrico tropel:
Vem curar-me do amargo nevoeiro
Que me roubou da vista o Sol inteiro
A Lua, imperatriz do negro céu!
Is this to be?Is this to be the last I see,
The last I see of you?
No, not here-it cannot be
I know it isn't true.
it's taken long, oh far too long
For me to finally find you,
And now I feel That I've done wrong-
I'm not prepared to lose you.
This cannot be the last I see,
The last I see of you.
I ask you, please-remember me
For I will not forget you.
You see, you've made my life complete,
And I must say.. I love you.
LOVE, SHE CAME TO TOWNSo much a man has locked fast, down inside.
He dives through days, comes only up to gasp,
to flail and try to pause, never to grasp
what he has lost, no doubts on what to hide.
But then that word, picked up in town one day.
A voice of hope came lancing through one's sleep.
"Love", it said; a timbre smooth and deep
made one's head turn - all blinders fell away:
She moves and talks among us, while her breast
sports ribbons bound invisibly to all,
each word, each movement draws my heart up there,
no jealousy nor fear is left to bear,
the secret inner door released. I call
her radiant wavelength, and forget the rest.
Dead Man's SwitchIn control, then not -
Sudden loss of grip.
Headlong to where?
Details lost, smudged, streaked.
Careening; no system of
No dead man's switch,
On a fast track -
With or without a god?
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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