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DoppelgangerI stopped and stared. Arms barred my way and hands clung to my clothes and hair, tearing and pulling me away. It did not matter. At that moment, I was immovable, petrified by the eerie sight of her, the other one, the one who haunted my dreams and my thoughts and my ear, whispering sly thoughts. The one who haunted my mirror. She slowly turned and our gazes collided, neither willing to give. With the same slow control, she stretched open her lips, baring blindingly white teeth and perfect lips.
DystopiaJuly 5 Anno Domini 1535
Tower of London, Greenwich, England
The torches flicker.
It is cold in this godforsaken cell. It is an imperfectly cubic room, devoid of comfort; the hard stones are damp and leech all warmth from the room. Thin slivers of moonlight leak through the bars of the window and pool on the uneven floor.
In the corner, a man waits solemnly. Sleep escapes his grasp tonight. The dull clink of chains echo back from the stone walls, mocking him as he contemplates the events that had resulted in his current situation.
11 years. 11 years of trust and friendship. 3 years as a constant fixture at His right hand.
Through all His trials, he had remained by His side; they had laughed together, broken bread together, and argued with one another, as only the closest of brothers can. Only this time, it was no simple quarrel. The careful foundation that they had built together—all of it had crumbled and been destroyed. And for what? A woman? A woman, who had single-handedly bew
FallingSomething is choking me. I find my eyelids plastered to my face, unable to wake up and all I can feel is cold, cold, cold. I swear the fearful sweat that beads out on to my skin freezes in its tracks. I can feel the frost clinging to my face and to my arms.
My senses abruptly flicker on as I fight the heavy blanket of oblivion and I can feel; I can feel the wind rushing past me, I can feel gravity pulling on me—I can remember falling.
Survival instinct kicks in. Wake up, dammit.
Gasp. Deep breaths. Dry heaving.
I wrench my eyelids open just in time to see the ground rushing up at me.
Floating“Wake up. Wake up. Wakeupwakeupwakeup wake uuuuup!”
I groaned and rolled onto my side, stubbornly sandwiching my face between my pillow and the mattress.
“Realtaaaaa. Wake uuuuuuuup.” A slight dip in the mattress was the only warning before I felt a cool prickle running along my back where my shirt had ridden up.
I scrambled up in a tangle of blankets and limbs, protesting, “Alright, alright I’m getting up!” I squinted through the faint light leaking through my blinds and jumped on my brother, pinning him to the mattress and tickling as he struggled, shrieking with laughter all the while.
“Someone has too much time on their hands, huh? Why don’t you help me clean up whatever it was that you spilled on my back?”
“What are you—ahahahaha don’t do that! What are you talking about?” he asked breathlessly.
“Oh, you know exactly what you did,” I growled, “you threw grass at me again, d
Conscious, UnconsciousShe’s walking along the dark corridor with one hand against the wall and the other clutching tightly to the remains of memories. She doesn’t know where she is, or how she got there, or where she is going; all she knows is that there is something that she’s reaching toward, something that pulls her forward with the haunting aura of inexorable fate.
And empty silence awaits her. Subtle fingers crawl up the back of her neck and tug at her choppy locks, but she can’t tell if they are pulling her away or toward the direction that she is walking in. And her legs keep walking forward one step at a time: left, right, left, right; only she doesn’t walk as much as she limps.
She suddenly becomes aware of a sticky mess clinging to her legs and she looks down. She realizes how illogical her actions are—it’s dark. Too dark. But when she looks down, she can see them, the mass of regrets and shame groping mindlessly at her and refusing to let go. Another whis
A Harmless PetThey stared with abject horror at the opening in the wall.
"Papa... I don't think there’s supposed to be a hole there,” Suzie whimpered from behind the shelter of her father’s knees. Her hand trembled as she clutched at his shirt for comfort, her other hand held up to her face as she chewed her thumb nervously.
“I don’t think so either, sweetie. I also don’t think Mittens is supposed to breathe fire.”
The cat in question was currently curled up peacefully on the fireplace mantle, looking for all the world as if it were just another ordinary afternoon. It nonchalantly licked its paws in what would have been an innocent motion were it not for the incriminating ash clinging to white fur.
Suzie found herself abruptly shoved backwards by her father, startled by Mittens’ jumping down from the mantle. It—he refused to acknowledge the cat as anything other than an alien entity; it breathed fire for god’s sake—landed grace
She stood gracefully and walked swiftly away from the table, chair squeaking in protest as it scraped against the hardwood floors. The buzz of the cafe noise faded into the background.
Tap. Tap. Tap. -- he counted them, the familiar rhythm of her bright red stilettos -- 14. Then -- the jingle of the chimes, giggling like a mischievous child. He sat immobile and counted. 1. 2. 3. The number of people who coughed. 7 -- glasses clinking at the back. He counted his breathing -- in, out, in, out. It was normal.
Calmed by the regularity of the surroundings, each accounted for, he blinked, and the table came back into focus. She had left a few coins carelessly scattered across the polished surface and haphazardly strewn around her lipstick-stained cup.
Abandoned on the tabletop remained a crumpled coffee-stained napkin. With hands that didn't even tremble, he slowly disentangled one of his hands from the other and picked up the napkin gingerly, as if it w
The ghost of your music (postcard letter)
It's been two months, three weeks, and a night since you died. Every day I wake up, only to reach out to your side of the bed and feel nothing but cold sheets. Every time, a huge wall hits me and I close my eyes again, only to be dragged out by whoever is in the house at the moment--there is a never-ending guard rotation, it seems, to keep me alive. My parents, our friends, even the cat, all seem to look at me with disapproval. I know it's time to move on, I really do know; but what the mind knows, the heart never listens to. Ever. That's one of the reasons I married you, quite frankly.
The days on which I have the strength to get up by myself are bleak. When I walk around the house, every little object seems to remind me of you. I hear the sound of your soft footsteps dancing through the lonely corridors, and sometimes I follow--sometimes I don't. Most days I languish on the living room couch, staring at the piano. I still remember the day we b
Goodbyehello & goodbye said the spider to the fly
in much the same way our time has gone by
quick as a flash years have passed
swallowed up by some unseen mass
yet lingering behind on the tenuous web
a sea of memories with flow and ebb
lies, a treasure chest of thoughts memorable
these past five years have been most enjoyable
ThorI hear the voice of thunder speak,
an ancient primal language
which vibrates throughout my bones
and sings within my soul,
my blood hums power,
my heart beats
Can'tI can't take my revenge
For I myself was forgiven.
I can't lie to keep a secret
For someone knows what's hidden.
I can't hate, for I was loved.
I can't fulfill the lust I would sate,
For my body is now a temple
For the One who took my fate.
I must admit I sometimes
With His prohibitions, I don't agree,
But I can't help but trust Him
For He only wants to protect me.
So I can't encourage a love
That's as beautiful as it is deadly.
It's not hate, I just can't stand it
If you succumb eternal death's melody.
The final journeyThe light fades
Yet night is not falling
Yet I hear the calling
The darkness cold and harsh
Yet soothing and cool
The river of death engulfs me
My final journey,my final fall
I cannot fight it
I cannot resist
This is it
I fade into the mist
ForgivingThe tide comes in,
Like Jesus washes our sin.
Always away when we ask,
We shouldn’t have to wear a mask,
To pretend to be good
When we’re not.
God can always tell,
If we’re doing well,
Or just being sinful again.
He is forgiving,
Every moment of living.
You don’t have to hide
So look, now,
And turn around.
Wataha: Zamglony Las upadaLas mgłą tulony i okraszony gwiazd śmiechem
Oznaczał ongiś świętość. Dziś chwała jego echem...
Drzew soki i traw rosa klejnotami tej świątyni,
Dziś gmin nieroztropny swawolnie w nie czyni!
Biją toporem, łamią gałęzie i odrapują z kory
Smaganej przez palce mgliste. Wilk skory
Pomyśleć o utraconych drzewach przed
Atakiem! Niewiasty na łące tkały mgieł pled...
Ścięli...! Olchy! Wierzby! Lipy! Dęby!
Pozostawili pniaki...! Las szczerzy swe zęby...
I ku swym katom błyska słojami.
Zawisną ciemiężcy. Zawisną niszczyciele,
Co nigdy nie przestaną. Tych krzyży zbyt wiele!
Nie wygrają z Lasów Bogami!
Wataha: Ostrze trucizny smakujeTen słony smak potu płynącego po twarzy...
Gdy sztylet raz po raz tonie w płynach zarazy;
Obmyty w toksynach warzonych po zmroku,
Czeka na swój występ - na misterium uroku.
Na skrytobójcy głowie kaptur narzucony,
W ciszy doskonali śmierci jadu kropel miliony.
Sztuka cichej likwidacji doskonałości pragnie...
Zabójca jest Wilkiem, niechaj cel skończy jak Jagnię...
Odczłowieczenie ofiary dokonane samoistnie
Skończy się, wnet białko ślepi agonią błyśnie
Pod naporem Synów i Cór wyniszczonego Rodu.
Oprawca dostąpi skwaru trucizny i stali chłodu.
Wyją Welesa drapieżcy do świateł odległych...
Zawyją ponownie. Nad padliną. Wrogów. Poległych...
DarknessIn the dark of the night,
in the absence of the light,
your eyes, as it happens to be,
are showin' what you want to see.
You can't see anything hideous,
if you look for the nature 'round us,
if your mind's positive enough,
You'll see just the good stuff.
And if you see everything plain,
your fantasy is the on to blame,
I say it's everyone's right,
to look for beauty in the night.
'cause she doesn't care 'bout your names,
although she knows them all,
and she sees through all of your games,
even before you leave the hall.
She knows your thoughts,
there's none she loathes,
and she'll never tease
Who am I?Should I have said that which I said?
Should I have asked that which I asked?
What did it mean when I asked?
What was its purpose?
Is it possible that I have stated a lie?
Is it possible that all I have said is false?
I do not wish to believe it is so,
For I would hate to see you go.
For so long I have kept away.
I have never asked, afraid to say.
But perhaps that time has long passed.
Perhaps it is time to break the fast.
I limited so much,
Using it as an excuse, as a crutch.
I understand what I have done,
No longer shall I run.
“The bird of Hermes is my name, Eating my wings to make me tame.”
Love Thy Fellow MenLove Thy Fellow Men
The joyous bells and blazing sun
And frosting of delicate lace upon green grass
A chill in the air when the day is done
And twinkling lights on roof and glass.
Sons in the darkness when the snow has yet to fall
Call to mind ancient cries of celestial host
Before man knew of the season or who we would call
Savior and sacrifice, carpenter and king, father or son or ghost.
Skies of grey and gold and blue
All the faithful scurrying below
In heart of hearts, honorable intentions true
To Celebrate the Birthday in the best way we know.
Let our names lead all the rest.
For if we love, we will love our best
And if we do not love Him best, then
We will be writ as those who love our fellow men.
Away, away, sailing away,
alone on a wide wide sea;
Drifting, floating on a white cloud plain--
not a thing in sight but me
A mindless breeze, a silent whoosh,
propels the ship ahead,
in the distance, a faint line forms,
a line up of the dead.
Where are you going? I question,
Why am I left behind?
Do not worry, your time will come,
came the disembodied reply.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More