

Efflorescence Water trickles through the cracks Turning pink to red Corners trimmed like new Which color seems more fitting? I couldnt say for certainEfflorescence


PlagueHere lie the remnants of a world undone Whispering wind holds the truth of our time This wretched land is beholden to none Though the survivors remember their crime All that theyve lost and all that they carry Weighs heavy on shoulders burdened by guilt And one by one the bodies they bury Serve to tear apart the lives they have built No tears can stop what we have brought about We flee from our sins or succumb to them Thered be no story if wed been devout So look on in shame, look on and condemn Festering like a plague upon the mind Remains the memPlague


Mountain PassThe sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon when the small group of warriors trudged between the mountain pass. They had carried on at a grueling pace, a fact that hadn’t seemed to disturb anyone, though their progress was slowed by the presence of an infant. It wasn’t any true hassle, save for the occasional stop for changing rags or feeding, though at the moment it had begun to wail, as its mother in the fading light had caught her foot upon a loose rock and stumbled, swinging the babe on her back and bouncing it from its sleep. Shifting it to her front, Xue gave the child a few pats, and though it failed to returned to its slumberMountain Pass


The Birth of ChaosReticence is the punishment of the Gods. Since the first pact of the River Styx, it has been the enslavement that keeps them to their oaths. Perhaps it the hatred that flows through the river, binding with their blood and overwhelming their tongues. That same hatred is immortality to mortals, enough bringing you eternal life, too much making it worthless. This is hell, and the road to it is paved with good intentions.The Birth of Chaos
Of the souls who pass through this realm, however, little is their concern for the beauty of the baneful river. Faithless is their dictum, in life and in death, and it is here they realize that the Seven Virtu
Devious Comments
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Needs Coffee...
Needs More Coffee...
--Green is Love--
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There is no preeminent number.
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Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
from "Through the Looking-Glass" - Lewis Carroll
I'd as soon write free verse as play tennis with the net down. - Robert Frost
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~Elora
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What may this mean, that thou, dead corpse, again, in complete steel revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon?
Hamlet - Act I
- Paul Valery
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dancing to the beat of my own heart...don't you dare get in my way.
never thought that would happen...
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There is no preeminent number.
And glad you liked the poem.
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