By Stub Of Flint And Chunk Of Coal
Feel These Words In Your Soul
By Altered Ignition And Flash Of Light
Speak These Words If Immolation Be Your Delight
When the winter comes they close their doors
The cold wind howls and bites us all
The howling grows louder
Shards of ice dig shallow cuts
It's so cold the blood doesn't stop
All we see is white snow and ice
No sky nor ground is in sight
As the wind grows stronger
The cuts grow deeper
We no longer feel the pain
But the blood pours all the same
When the wind dies down
We look around and frown
The ground isn't white but red
And then our souls are fed
To the reaper named death
Children of the Night by theinnerdevil, literature
Literature
Children of the Night
I sprint
through the streets
The shadows
nipping at my heels
Heart beat
rapid
Breath
shallow
I turn
down an ally
The fence on the other side
doesn't impede me
a quick vault
Im over and running
Streets
deserted
I pound on doors
begging to be let in
Out of breath
no choice
I run
Heart beat
Painful
Breathing
Burns my lungs
The Shadows
whispering now
tempting me with promises
Promises of enternal life;
enternal youth
of joy
and of power
I push on
ignoring their siren call
I stumble
Fall
Physically exhausted
body screaming for rest
Mentally exhausted
the Dark voices
fill my head
They catch me
congratulate
Name: Evan
Age: 16
I love art of all forms and love to try as many as i can. The tools of my trade are pencil and pen. I find that my creative juices flow best when im supposed to do schoolwork so writing and drawing takes up most of my school day. I hate talking about myself because im afraid of underselling myself or sounding arrogant and cocky. I avoid fighting others but dont back away when my friends need my help from bullys or any sort of problem. I read ALOT, so much in fact that ive had an english teacher bann me from bringing books to class. Although i love my art i
By Stub Of Flint And Chunk Of Coal
Feel These Words In Your Soul
By Altered Ignition And Flash Of Light
Speak These Words If Immolation Be Your Delight
When the winter comes they close their doors
The cold wind howls and bites us all
The howling grows louder
Shards of ice dig shallow cuts
It's so cold the blood doesn't stop
All we see is white snow and ice
No sky nor ground is in sight
As the wind grows stronger
The cuts grow deeper
We no longer feel the pain
But the blood pours all the same
When the wind dies down
We look around and frown
The ground isn't white but red
And then our souls are fed
To the reaper named death
Children of the Night by theinnerdevil, literature
Literature
Children of the Night
I sprint
through the streets
The shadows
nipping at my heels
Heart beat
rapid
Breath
shallow
I turn
down an ally
The fence on the other side
doesn't impede me
a quick vault
Im over and running
Streets
deserted
I pound on doors
begging to be let in
Out of breath
no choice
I run
Heart beat
Painful
Breathing
Burns my lungs
The Shadows
whispering now
tempting me with promises
Promises of enternal life;
enternal youth
of joy
and of power
I push on
ignoring their siren call
I stumble
Fall
Physically exhausted
body screaming for rest
Mentally exhausted
the Dark voices
fill my head
They catch me
congratulate
Name: Evan
Age: 16
I love art of all forms and love to try as many as i can. The tools of my trade are pencil and pen. I find that my creative juices flow best when im supposed to do schoolwork so writing and drawing takes up most of my school day. I hate talking about myself because im afraid of underselling myself or sounding arrogant and cocky. I avoid fighting others but dont back away when my friends need my help from bullys or any sort of problem. I read ALOT, so much in fact that ive had an english teacher bann me from bringing books to class. Although i love my art i
Current Residence: My house deviantWEAR sizing preference: Large Favourite genre of music: ALL Favourite style of art: Poetry MP3 player of choice: Samsung Galaxy 3 Shell of choice: WallNut Shell? Wallpaper of choice: Distopian Scenery Skin of choice: mine? Favourite anime character: Shikki Personal Quote: Live for ever or die trying
The first page is always the hardest to write in any book. whether it be a scientific journal, an autobiography, or a personal poetry book the first page always seems to set the mood for the pages that follow it. this is why most of the notebooks scattering my room have the first page left blank, because no matter how hard I try the first page never lives up to my expectations. Some people never read the last page of a novel because they don't want it to end, I don't write the beginning because I don't want to limit what follows with a set beginning.
so it's been over a year, I don't even know what I'm doing right now. just felt a need to change my journal entry so ... yeah. merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, Hanukah to those of you who have that, and a happy festivus for the rest of us :)
So, im just going to start writing here and im sorry if it ends up being a little hard to read. I dont remember where i found this fact but, where I am, we are looking at the coldest winter in 50 years. I found this out in September and no one seemed to take notice. one day at school if started to gently snow and everyone got excited, and now not even a week later its -13 and all the roads are so covered in ice that my ride home from stagecraft did a 360 in her mini-van on her way to the school. Ive been working really hard on schoolwork latley because it seems that every couple weeks all my deadlines line up and I have way to much homewo
Thank you for the favorite on fav.me/d9vdhl1 Let's write something together sometime. You pick a subject, a place, a photo, even one word, and I'll outline my method and throw it back to you for round two. Peace.