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wishing wells and pumpkin shells
coffee with mint cream
wedding bells and magic spells
life is but a dream
mother says it's rain today
drought's been sixteen years
pigs will fly and cats will stray
seventeen brings tears
hooting owls and leopard prowls
burn the midnight sun
men with jowls eat fattened cows
never had such fun
father says it's time to go
new year's 'round the bend
can't be late for nature's show
fish-face now the trend
dreamer's dream and lover's love
wishing time would fly
blue moonbeam on heaven's dove
hope I never die
I Fell AsleepI fell asleep
In the arms of the enemy.
My worst mistake,
As I let his words get to me.
I left my life
In the hands of a killer.
I trusted my blood
To a man who's a murderer.
I closed my eyes
As he lulled me away.
I loosened my grip
As he began to sway.
I fell asleep
In the arms of the enemy.
I lost my life,
but I lost my life willingly.
Needle of the PineYou're a needle of the pine, my dear -
a poking of the spine, a narrow rod
to gently prod my heart in waters brine.
And when I fall, you pull me tall
to bask in heaven's shrine, for what you are
'tis not sub-par, my needle of the pine.
Solitary Mind of Connected MadnessI see a sliver in the outskirts of eyes,
Tripping on madness, of madness this ride
Is, a circus of freaks. And there's no place to move,
And no place to breathe there's no room it's
My mind pressing mirrors upon mirrors and halls,
Palms touching nothing but heat-slicken claws,
And bent are the fractures of twitches of dream,
And fragmented truths of escaped tragedy.
Sobbing are soldiers not laid seige to a cheek,
Fools that are weary, held back as they're freed,
And o how the merry-go-round spins its tales,
Moving forward, neverending, on circling trails.
Succumb to the effervescence of thrilling deceit,
Believe when you don't, acceptance is key,
Be lost with the timeless, unwavering charm,
In circles, not touching skin, all arm in arm.
I see a world on a sliver of fire,
Tripping on madness, on madness on wire,
Is it I'm slipping at the edge of a hope?
It's time to accept we're together
The real meaning of friendshipFriendship
Kidding around turns into
Remembering painful times
Ignoring the painful truth that lies ahead
Ending all hope
Never finding any good in it
Demanding they be there for you but they never
Seem to keep their promise of staying
Heartache and loneliness always comes at the end
Insightful friends are nothing but a myth
Promises broken and pitying oneself
In MorningThrough a wintry window laced with ice, lie
petrified panes of frosted grass beckoning,
languorously outstretched. A shivering bird’s cry
reaches horizon’s edge—that razor reckoning,
those impossible dimensions—hung like a kite
on a cloud, precipitously balanced between a dull
existence with poking pinpricks the only light,
and the embers of potential, slowly stoking. A lull
unfurls, a quiet eternity uncurling in that predawn
chill, everything faded to silent sepia, frozen
as though this instant is more important, torn
from time and left right where it was chosen
to be. Light spills over and creeps through
fractured, flinty sky turned a clear, unbroken blue.
SanityThe walls of this place were white,
Sanitation and cleanliness were no doubt at play.
Walking through them I search for the light,
Lost forever in this building, searching for the day,
The one where I would no longer be lost.
The rooms were empty,
Not a soul but for the ones at rest.
I wouldn’t say I felt guilty,
But what I had done, I would address,
And realize my action’s cost.
Continuing through these halls,
I can’t help but look at the paint.
I remember the red smears on the walls,
The copper scent lingering still and faint,
Yet luckily those memories I tossed.
I pass on, leaving behind this phenomenon.
I see a shred of the sun’s rays,
And quickly I leave my role of false surgeon.
Behind me the blood of my past lays,
Leaving it to the cold and frost.
Tick TockTick tock goes the clock
It's all a little hazy,
Tick tock she's in shock
The girl that we call Lacey
Little lines cut her neck
But no one wants to see them
All her friends wish she were dead
But no one wants to be them
One or two can make it through
The Hell that she lives in
But nothing that they say is true
So no one can believe it
Her life is just a bunch of rags
There's nothing that can save her
Her breathing comes in heavy drags
Each saying "You Deciever"
Tick tock goes the clock
It's all a little hazy
Tick tock she's a rock
The body we call Lacey
SuicideThe drawback of suicide is
there was a time I did exist.
If only there was a way
to erase all that away.
No-one left to remember me.
I would never want that.
No-one left to miss me.
I wouldn't deserve it anyway.
No-one to wonder why I couldn't stay.
You wouldn't understand the answer.
No-one left to hate me.
To think I was selfish.
No pressure to remain here
just to keep you happy.
If only there was a way.
To erase everything away...
Prayer of the Long VigilNow the bright old sun will end
This lovely night of ours
Drifting through the clouds above
Collecting all the stars
My darling, close your tired eyes
And dream your sacred dream
Soul within the verdant realm,
Your body safe with me
Our Mother Moon, your sleeping form
She watches night and day
Never alone, the Forest Lord
Walks with you all the way
Bear and Saber prowl the ground
The Owl and Crow above
Our blades are sharp, our land is strong
You need not fear, my love
The blinding light that marks the day
Reigns over all save when
The ever shining sun does set
And night is ours again
The Parlour IncidentOne day in July, I believe it was, I found myself sitting with several acquaintances in Christopher's parlour. It was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons which only the summer in her full glory can bring. The room had a wan, listless light to it, relaxing the other guests and myself as we languidly chatted over tea and crumpets. The air was also sluggishly heavy, dulling the senses to a slowly-blended calm engendered by the heat of St. Othniel's southerly climate.
At length, after much stimulating conversation, Christopher stood, producing a book of sheet music.
"What do you all say to a bit of music?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered.
"Oh yes, please do darling!" Tabitha exclaimed, "he's quite the maestro."
Christopher laughed, shaking his head.
"Now, now love, I'd not go that far."
He strode over to the piano as the other guests urged him on. Ida entered the room bearing a merrily steaming teapot and more crumpets.
"More tea sirs?" she inquired, shooting sideways glances at her
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More