Ascended, 2He was being carried. Marlon loved the feeling, half-awake, half-asleep, safe in the arms of his father. He was being carried to his bed, to the Transformer sheets and the soft, fluffy warmth of his Thundercats comforter. The long car rides were his favorite way to fall asleep, the hours of road stretching out smooth, mesmerizing behind the glass of the window, his mother and father talking in calm, comforting tones to one another. His brother, Jarvis, older and more inured to the lulling effect would be absorbed by the latest band he'd been taken by, staring into the darkness, living the words of his favorite artists through his headphones. But Marlon, Marlon would drift off almost intentionally, the rhythm of the blacktop droning and soothing him into unconsciousness. His father was so strong, and Marlon delighted in the press of his face against the smooth fabric of his father's crisp, pressed shirt.Ascended, 2 by Nawasa
He opened his eyes, the light of early afternoon flooding his vision, chasing away
The Hollow MoonThe moon makes cold marble of the concrete.The Hollow Moon by Nawasa
My hands are empty,
All the little birds have left the nest
They had called home,
In the bitter spaces of my chest.
I'm drawn homeward
To the dark and damp
Of the soil,
To rest, to return to dust
And the silence from which I came.
Pauper PrinceI wish I could send a flutter of butterflies to drink your tears,Pauper Prince by Nawasa
The ones you cry, lonely, into an all too familiar pillow.
I wish I could send flights of nightingales to you,
To sing sweet songs into your dreams,
Stitching them tightly with woven melodies,
Embroidered through with lilting happiness.
I wish I could throw stardust into your emptiness,
Creating a new universe to fill the void inside of you,
Spanning the chasm of your solitude,
With glittering starburst galaxies.
You, prince of the Heavens,
But pauper on Earth,
Deserve such riches as this world has never seen.
HomeMy house, my house,Home by Nawasa
My crumbling home.
How could a prince,
Born into a palace,
Understand the love I have
For softly settling timbers
Raised with my own two hands?
And how could kings,
Born under the gilded gazes of martyrs
Find the divine in
The gentle rainwater melt of glass in the windows?
How could such soft hands
Understand the love that was crafted
By those so weathered and worn?
Untitled.Cause I don't know. And it's been such a long time.Untitled. by Gatriel
And this time, this time. There's no you. That's fine though.
It's been a while...
The oak tree's gone and all that's left is a burned down hill and a stump. And a voice that echoes
Soft reds, vibrant greens,
Shining silvers, subtle browns,
Bright purples, bitter yellows
Sweet oranges and...
Sky blues that fades.
Into a warm canvas of pink with a tinge of purple. With the sun in the background.
Scattered with clouds
And this time, it's me that's gazing up the sky.
Night has never been colder.
And right now. Right now is perfect.
The sky used to be black and the stars used to be white and boring. Stationary
But it's actually a deep dark blue that haunts your core and pulls at you. Mesmerize
And the stars twinkle and dance. They never were brighter
You know, I used to be based around on who you were.
But the thing is you never were actual, never were tan
AlwaysShe's sixteen. Tall, with chestnut brown and green eyes. Her name is Liz. She wears dark clothes and is shy. She tries to stay unnoticed and is pretty good at it. Except for the ones that make fun of her.Always by Retrubutionist777
Hunched as if afraid of being stuck and always has her arms crossed defensively across her chest. Never raises her eyes for fear of catching anyone's gaze. She has no one.
Liz never speaks. She has nothing to express her emotions. She feels trapped like an animal. All she possesses are her words...
Day to day go by, the cruel grind of pain and humiliation. She walks down the hall and one of them bumps into her by "accident". All her books scatter on the floor. She stands there stunned, and the cool girl laughs and says "Ha, need to be more careful clumsy. Always tripping aren't you?" They hoot as her face reddens and she crouches to gather up her papers. The bell rings and they walk off, still laughing. Liz follows far behind, head hung with shame. If only she can wait until night com
FluxThere was never any doubt in my mind that he could kill me if he truly and completely wanted to. I've even told him as much. Now, that may not sound like a proper reason for keeping him by my side, but allow me to explain what brought that decision about.Flux by Chitter-Box-Kat
He has a certain sense of loyalty that is often hard to understand. While it may seem like he only seriously protects the ones that he loves the best, there is an inherent duty within him. A drive to protect the ones who are less like friends and more like comrades. On the battlefield, it is not an uncommon sight to see him run, just as it is not an uncommon sight to see him viciously maiming an enemy to protect his fellow soldiers.
Its an odd sort of loyalty, but as long as it works in my favor, I will never complain. But I digress The one act on his part that convinced me he would be better off on my side, in spite of his desire to take my role as leader is the worst of his temper. I have only bee
But those steady lights will flicker,
In the cold wind of harsh truths,
And in the shadows on the wall we can trace the dark curling,
Of their doubts.
The flutters make long the pockets of dark,
And the shadows dance and play,
But in the end these quiet little lights,
Keep all the world's darkness at bay.
Current Residence: Colorado|
Favourite genre of music: Progressive, Psychedelic, Post-Rock, Dubstep
Favourite style of art: Poetry, Music
Favourite cartoon character: Freakazoid, Fluttershy
I was born in Louisiana with Hot Sauce in my blood.
Saving the world, one day at a time.