ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I've kept the words,
inside my soul and,
the letters from you,
in my mind for so long,
where it said you loved me,
and how you missed me.
Long days with sunshine,
on our faces,
our hearts heated,
as we wildly dance.
I've kept the words,
inside my heart,
those I wanted to say,
the letters that I wrote,
but didn't send away,
where I said I loved you too,
and how I missed you since,
the unfortunate day,
where you died and,
the world around me fell away.
Gray days with gloomy skies,
tears hidden in the rain,
cold grief is not enough to,
cool this terrible pain.
I've kept the words,
inside far too long,
and they're coming out,
like a tremendous flood,
in such a sorrowful song of,
unsent letters,
untold words.
I'll remember the words of your letters,
I'll keep them close to my heart,
and I'll remember the sunshine on,
those long days of happiness.
inside my soul and,
the letters from you,
in my mind for so long,
where it said you loved me,
and how you missed me.
Long days with sunshine,
on our faces,
our hearts heated,
as we wildly dance.
I've kept the words,
inside my heart,
those I wanted to say,
the letters that I wrote,
but didn't send away,
where I said I loved you too,
and how I missed you since,
the unfortunate day,
where you died and,
the world around me fell away.
Gray days with gloomy skies,
tears hidden in the rain,
cold grief is not enough to,
cool this terrible pain.
I've kept the words,
inside far too long,
and they're coming out,
like a tremendous flood,
in such a sorrowful song of,
unsent letters,
untold words.
I'll remember the words of your letters,
I'll keep them close to my heart,
and I'll remember the sunshine on,
those long days of happiness.
Literature
49. Preservatives
There's something in my blood stream and it's keeping me alive. You could say that it's a poison and this is my sickness, but there's nothing toxic about it. If it were toxic, surely I would decay? I'm still around. No, it's not a poison; it's a preservative. It keeps me, like a dead creature floating in a jar of vinegar - only there is no vinegar and I'm not floating and I'm very much alive.
Literature
In the end
All Father look upon your son
I want to think of you
Wile dirty black insects swarm and bite me
If I strike true I will see you
This thought I want to keep alive
Wile they strike me dead
My end
Wise Wanderer look upon this one
My last thought will not be:
''What will my love do without me...''
A proud shout instead
As I lay cowards dead
A defiant roar, at shameful old women
Hiding behind dark masks and armor
Armed, by old fools with cowards tools
Too long have they complained and made excuses
For themselves and the masters they protect
Today their lies fall on dead ears
You are all the same
And deserve Hel even more
Literature
Underworld Academy Chapter 18
“More than half of that isn’t our fault. We ran into…obstacles. Stacy was hexed, for starters. That ‘reliquary’ that Durwood gave her had a witch’s finger, raven feathers, and some blue sand that Flint and me don’t recognize.” Raze’s voice woke her, but she didn’t open her eyes. She wanted to hear the conversation.
“It’s ‘and I’, honestly.” Archie clicked his tongue disapprovingly and continued, “I assume the sand would be from Horomancy. Specifically, one of his hourglasses, meant to induce sleep o
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
/cry
© 2014 - 2024 yzkethrag
Comments11
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I have goosebumps. This is beautiful!