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Let the rain fallAs the water falls down
I sit within
All around me it hits gently
Calming Soothing Painful
It hides much within its grace
Yet brakes down the strongest of stone
It speaks gentle words of the world
As I move it changes
Making all different
And all better
FallingTo the ground we all fall, upon this earth we lay our heads
Nothing to catch us but a gentle breeze
We drift about in this life like a leaf in the wind
No true direction, only guesses where we will lay
As we land we make no sound
The earth groans a silent sigh of relief knowing we lay safe upon it
It starts to rain
As we lie in waiting drops land upon us
They roll down our cheeks
Cold trails form on us while they roll over our warm faces
To the point tears and rain become one
Our true emotions show
Where love, hate, sadness, happiness,grief and jealousy combine into a bliss of emotion
We become weightless once again
As we continue to fall we think of our life
What we want in it
With such clarity that all is shown, the veil over our eyes is gone
Only the light shows through
As the earth grows greater in view we slow
With the wind
With the water
We become one
Reapers Of the Living One"Hey jack?" James says in a low tone.
"What James?" as jack replies with the tone of annoyance in his voice.
"Do you still remember you life before we got sent to hell and became reapers of the living?" asked James.
Jack utters to James "yea I remember, I miss it every day. Thanks to you though I got sent to that prison and killed in that explosion!".
Whoa, really? You are blaming that on me? It was you who wanted to make the self sacrifice to save that girl that you loved jack. I gave you a choice, I detonate the nuclear device and you live a life with the girl, or we both go up in the explosion and look like we are heroes. But no, you wanted to look like a hero, well we were never really heroes after we were on the run.
Yea James, I know, but still, it's your fault that we got sent to prison you fucking asshole!
Hey, hey knife slinger. I had to kill off my entire corporation, they were corrupt and having me kill the innocent. Heck we barely had any contact before I went ro
Reapers Of the Living :Benny:First Name: Benny
Last Name: Kalkins
Eye Color: Red
Hair Color: White
Cause of Death: Drug Over Dose
Demon Name: Benny
Occupation: Hells Gate Keeper and looks over the reaper program
Normal Attire: White suit from the 70's with a purple silk shirt, has black crow wings
Habits: Randomly showing up at the most inappropriate times for jack and James, Enjoys punishing the dammed as they enter hell, Enjoys dropping his annoying little stalker (Ashley) off with James and jack where she drives them absolutely nuts, always leaves one feather dropping slowly to the ground when he teleports from place to place, Enjoys appearing in front of James when he is getting ready to take his shot on a kill order
Favorite Drink: Dr. Pepper
History: Originally from the 70's he had died due to a drug over does in a club, he was sent to hell because it was categorized as a suicide, Lucifer for some reason greeted him with open arms and made him gate keeper of hell, h
Reapers Of the Living :Jack:First Name: Jack
Last Name: Winston
Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Black
Skin Color: White
Original Occupation: Military analyst
Reason for Imprisonment: Framed by the government
Cause of death: Assisted suicide by James
Demon Name: Hasn't chosen yet
Powers: Can put extreme amounts of kinetic energy into anything he throws, heightened reflexes, super sensitivity, non human speed and agility, the ability to heal within seconds and have no scars, non human strength, teleportation, when he has his demonic powers he is invulnerable to every weapon known to man, can create a weapon from anything he finds
Job Skills: Top Ranked Marksman, Tracking, Explosives Technician, Manufacturing of Weapons, Survival expert, No Remorse, Insanity
Past Training: Ex Navy Seal, Navy Sniper, Navy Explosives Technician
Weakness: Women, caffeine
History: Lost all family at the age of 12, Lived by himself for years in the wilderness staying in the family cab
Reapers Of the Living :James:First Name: James
Last Name: Hyde
Nick Name: The Reaper
Weight: 196 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Brown
Skin Color: Tan, White
Original Occupation: Hired Assassin
Reason for Imprisonment: Destroyed the Corporation that he worked for, killed the innocent.
Cause of Death: Suicide by explosion
Current Occupation: Reaper of the Living and Evil
Demon Name: He never wanted one
Powers: The ability to absorb energy from the surrounding environment, heightened reflexes, super sensitivity, non human speed and agility, the ability to heal within seconds and have no scars, non human strength, Able to use active camouflage and change his molecular structure so he can blend into surrounding environments, teleportation, when he has his demonic powers he is invulnerable to every weapon known to man, can control the path and direction of a bullet fired from any weapon, etc
Job Skills: Classified
Past Training: Classified
Family: Non existent
Reaping Attire: Heav
Theme Prompt - SoliloquyI was thinking about my poetry and some of the stories I’ve written and I realized something interesting. When I write, I bare a small piece of my soul and am usually speaking to someone in particular. At least when it comes to the poems that resonate the most with me when I re-read them. There are a few that I just have no feeling for at all and, if I didn’t know I wrote it, I wouldn’t attribute to myself.
I’ve written poetry to my father, my aunt, my grandmother, my ex, and my friends. Some with good intentions and feelings and some not so good. I’ve written alternately hopeful and sad, longing poems to a nebulous person that I hope to meet in the future. I’ve worked through my emotions for everyone and showed how I truly felt about them all. The gratitude and love for my friends, the sorrow and love for my family, and the love and, subsequently, anger and regret for my ex. Yet I’ve never really tried to work through my own feelings towards m
StrengthMy grandfather was the strongest man I ever met. If you’ve ever seen someone on TV perform some superhuman feat of strength and thought that it wasn’t real, you’ve never met my grandfather. I have seen him rip a telephone book in half. He reached his full height of 6”4’ at the age of fourteen, and by the age of fifteen he had left school to work in the metal works. No one thought twice about it, because he was more than capable of the work and looked older than he was.
I am not strong. My joints frequently hurt, although I do not think I can convey to you how much of an understatement the word ‘hurt’ is in this situation. Most people didn’t understand why I didn’t run as long or as fast as the other children, or take delight in the frequent football scrimmages that almost all the boys I knew took such delight in. when I told them “I can’t, my leg aches,” they just told me to be strong.
My grandfather didn’t.
Once NecessaryFrom a young age, she always looked the same. A tangled mass of blonde, hazel eyes glued to the print of a story. She was once asked why she was always reading and the answer was simple. Print was easier then People.
She learned in a hard way to hide her legs. Dead and dried skin cracked it's way along her calves and shins, stopping at her dried knees, only to turn into Braille on her thighs. Jeans turned into necessity and the skirts and dresses she loved were pushed to the side and she forgot that she even liked them.
The calming effect of reading was negated by a series of horrible math teachers, all speaking in a flurry of a language that she had chosen to take but could never learn how to say. Her grades plummeted and she left the class, only to become the person kids stared at in the halls.
Her mind grew fast, her body grew slow. Bigger books, longer novels. She watched as the people around her showed their colors and she was afraid. Afraid of what they would say and what would h
Grandpa Dad’s cell phone rang, breaking the peaceful silence. Nobody moved; we waited it out. Grogginess held us all in her loving claws. The voicemail ring sounded, and the room lapsed back into silence for a whole five minutes. Voicemail rang again, annoying me.
Who just calls at 6 a.m. anyway?
Slight fear stirred inside of me, but I quelled it. It wasn’t possible. We were safe and sound in a hotel room in Ohio, save for my little sister’s stomach and Mom’s intestines. Dad dubbed it “screaming diarrhea” because Mom screamed when she sat on the toilet. It made for a very long trip back from visiting family in West Virginia for spring break, but they were all safe and secure as we were, maybe even more so. Grandpa was doing much better, and at 94 with pneumonia, he had spent the first half of our week-visit in the hospital an hour away. He talked to us the night before, and was awake and eating breakfast when we left
T15 Empty SpacesI lived and worked in Vietnam for an amputated year.
Before leaving for Vietnam I burned all bridges, spent a month in the north country and the day before leaving cut my hair. I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City/Saigon with a half a hundred dollars in my pocket, a bag of clothes and no interest in looking back.
A year later I left as a stranger to myself, returned to my life and mostly stitched myself back together.
I worked six days a week at a school in the center of town on the side of what for cars would be a six lane road, but for motorcycles was more of an 18 lane highway. I slept in a house tucked away in a district on the edge of the city.
I lived on my motorcycle. Everyone in Ho Chi Minh City does.
Sunday mornings school started early. I took to starting even earlier.
I’d ride my motorcycle over the stinking rivers and through the traffic to get to the park across from the school. Every Sunday, I walked the park. I walked slowly, looked at the trees and let the city disappear
himera..cand greutatea intunericului.
imi inchide pleoapele..
nici chiar moartea nu va putea..
sa traga definitiv cortina intre mine si eu..
sangele meu curge pana si..
..ce-as fi ajuns fara clipa vietii tale..
intriga tuturor umbrelor..
exista in mine..
insa durerea grea..
o voi simti si in ochii noptii eterne..
puternici sunt plamanii vantului..
propriei agonii prada..
plina de pofta ascult..
chemarea altei lumi..
cand luna rosie apare..
sufletul lacom priveste afara..
prin perdeaua de lacrimi a ochilor stinsi..
care-au uitat sa vada..
aud chemarea ..
3.March.2014Tell the story of an event (a dinner, a game, a film) in three different ways, depending on who is telling the story.
THE HOST: The once cozy, lived-in home had turned into a place that resembled a model display. There was not a throw pillow out of place in the painstakingly organized living room, and not a speck of dust dared reveal itself to be upon the impeccably dusted tables and shelves. The windows were washed so completely that no one would have been surprised if an unfortunate bird met its untimely end upon the crystalline glass pane. The kitchen was, though bustling with activity, as pristine as ever, the stainless steel surfaces reflecting light onto the dark granite countertops whereupon the food for the evening sat, ready to be placed.
The hostess herself, however, was of another demeanor altogether. Her strikingly haggard appearance was the antithesis of the environment, with her disheveled chocolate hair thrown into a ha
Dream 51A bit of an update if anyone is reading this : For the past long while I have had some issues with my memory which have seriously impacted my dream recollection. When I do remember dreams, it is usually a small detail, not enough to have a flowing sequence of events. The dream I had today, though not as full of information as my recollections used to be, was the most saturated amount of recollection that I have had in a very long time.
It began with me being in a small town full of very old homes, the intricate kind with white walls and red clay roofs that you might see in Europe. There was a new years gathering there, my family was there, so were many others. I wandered around before finding my father, who was sitting crooked and acting silly. It was clear that he was drunk. This was an enormous shock to me since I have never seen my father drunk in my entire life (Thank god.). I told him that if he needed to go anywhere that he needs to let me know so that I can drive him. This infur
JOB 14:3A girl sat in her bed under a soft, grey blanket. She had just turned the lights off in the room and began to think about a few happenings in the week or two prior just before beginning to pray.
It was late on a Friday night and she was with her mother and step father in their room. They were doing what they normally did on the weekends: listening to music and drinking. The girl's friend was supposed to be coming over, but she hadn't heard from her all night and the clock had just struck to indicate that it was 10:30. Her phone suddenly jerked alive, vibrating violently under her hand on the counter and alerting her of a text.
She quickly uncovered her phone to see that her friend had finally texted her. Moments before that, the girl was having an anxiety attack right in front of her mother. Her breath hitched and her eyes darted around like they were paranoid something was watching them, but her mother didn't seem to notice. She was so afraid she'd done something wrong, but no one
My demonLaying there, quietly, alone
The feeling of something is there, unseen, but there
I sit up, but my body remains laying down
As I shout "show yourself" the figure becomes more visible
I lay back down and see the creature standing there
Glowing eyes piercing through me, Head of a wolf, tall, very tall
Draped in a long black hooded cloak or robe
Its hands, I can never get those things out of my head as it reached for me
Long fingers, almost like claws that are twice as long as the finger as a man
This is what haunts me, this is what hunts me
It grows closer
Help me before it hurts me more
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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