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The wonder of flightAs the morning sun began to rise over the grand plains, Darin would slowly come to consciousness. Still snugged warmly against the Talonflame, he'd let out a yawn and open his eyes blearily. Slowly blinking away the sleep he'd look upwards, taking a moment to recognize the large bird. It's eyes were closed, the large pokemon breathing softly in it's sleep; placed next to Darin would be his familiar, the sword's eye still shut. Getting up slowly and carefully so as not to wake the two of them, he'd walk a small distance away and stretch, watching the sun as it continued to make it's way through the sky. That had to have been the best he'd slept in a good while..a full stomach, and something warm and soft to sleep against. He'd purse his lips, thinking hard for what to do next..if they were going to have any chance of winning, he'd need to figure out how to ride it somehow. The thief had his doubts that careening through the sky in it's talons would count towards a mount competition.
Learning bit by bitAct would be angrily pacing -or rather floating- in a circle around Darin as he lay in the grass, slowly calming from the flight. Honestly when the bird had come at him in the way it did, he'd thought it was an invitation. His plan was to grab onto it's legs and see if he could climb onto it's back from there as it flew. Little did he expect the large bird to snatch him up like a piece of prey and take off with him-though at least it seemed like it wasn't wholly interested in eating him. It'd just dropped him in the grass, and landed nearby, neatly preening it's feathers as if nothing were out of the norm for it. As startling and scary as the moment had been, he did have to admit a touch of thrill to the little trip..he'd never been that high, or gone that fast before. Sighing, he'd sit up and rub his head, glancing over to the bird. It had chosen to stand in place, sharp eyes watching Act as it circled around him.
He'd turn his eye to the agitated familiar, deciding to break whatever
Silence in the midst of screamsTime was running out. He could feel it, screaming, clawing..edging at every fiber of his being. The demon's mentality, his one remaining shard of who he had been lay within his cracked mind. Watching with a dread as everything lined, as his existence would slowly be diminished. If not the next soul devoured, it would be the starvation, that ended him. Any more pressure upon his already shattered mind, would have the shard be no more, a spiraling insanity would only remain. As it were on the surface...anxious, paranoid..fearful of everyone, and thing. Obsessive to the point of compulsion and actions driven by colors and nothing but the remnants of himself. He could only silently guide and hold the hope that his body would comply through his mind's disarray. Yet, as the time passed...he would find no solution to the issue at hand. How, could he survive without consuming the souls of contracted humans? It'd been unheard of by the demon thus far for such a thing to be. His search had been
9 years and 10 monthsConfusion, yelling and fear. Small arms reaching in desperation, a swift and loud CRACK, followed by the thump of a small body hitting the floor. Silence, as the storm slowed and ended, the small form being looked upon in contempt before the assailant would drop the heavy bottle and saunter off, leaving the small boy alone on the floor. As his consciousness left him, and the blood flowed freely from the wound upon his head. Coating and soaking through the already bright red hair darkening it and sinking into the carpet upon which he lay..confusion would riddle the boy's mind..why had this happened..? His consciousness would only return fleetingly as his father would return from work, his worried voice yelling, calling to him..he felt himself cradled up into the man's arms as the older Octillery attempted to get what had happened from the younger boy. The boy's eyes..fogged over and riddled with confusion would only stare back blankly. What happened...a slow blink. His mother had beaten
How he won his homeWhispers were carried on the wind that night...whispers of the king and his tree. "The king is getting old..the king may die soon." "Who will get his home when he's gone?" the many voices of the forest's inhabitants asked one another quietly, careful not to disturb the old Nidoking in his place. "That tree is the best in the forest...it has many places to hide, many places to live." the voices would continue on, very well aware of the one listening in the shadows beyond the bushes, but paying no mind to the worthless scrap. HE certainly wouldn't be a threat to their plotting or planning, the runt couldn't fight and didn't have the bravery to go against king. They, on the other hand...or anyone else here could contend this treasure. "Should we challenge him now, while he is weaker in age? Or wait until he simply dies of his own?" they would question, each inhabitant in this place wanting that tree as their own, each determined to obtain it.
Listening intently from where he hid, the youn
Go ahead and hate me.Go ahead!
Without me ever having done anything but live and breathe.
Glare at me, look at me like I'm trash.
Maybe I'll disappear one day
I'm a nasty little kid, a bastard teenager, and a worthless man.
But know, you're what made me who I am.
I didn't know as a kid. I cried and hated it. As a teenager, I was lonely and desperate to feel loved. Now as a man, I am cold and cynical.
All that makes me happy in the world is this twisted idea of mine.
You hate me, but you can't ignore me. I'm always here, you'll always look at me. Even if you hurt me, as every single pair of eyes that lands on me ultimately wants...I will welcome it. Because then...someone is paying attention to me.
I'll insult you, I'll hurt your pride, scoff at you, goad, push, and pick at you.
But...It's only because..
I want to feel like someone cares.
And this...hate and pain, is all I know.
One by one, we wait to dieA single scream cuts the silence,
then turns to many
all we were was compliant,
We didn't cause this,
but we suffer the most
we all miss...
what did we do?
for our hosts' squabble
We know that we won't move away,
In our hearts...we feel
And each day, another of us dies
You have no heart
for our fight
It's not right.
Ten lines on poetryIt's not all the time the words,
come running in herds
I need time,
to formulate my rhymes
It's creative sure,
but sometimes just a blur
when you catch it before the run
But if you miss it,
it doesn't get writ.
DisillusionedIt's just not the same,
our little game...
it used to be so grand,
now it's just bland
I sit and sigh,
we were once up so high,
how did it end up this way?
All of that excitement,
wonder where it went..
another day gone again,
makes me wonder when
The next thing will come around,
and move me out of this rut
I know it's bound to happen,
How to be Populardon’t talk
go to parties
listen to friends
go with the flow
drink some more
don’t let them see the tears
as you cry yourself to sleep
for the most important thing
is to be popular
Panic attackIt hits me like a wave,
These thoughts of fear and regret.
They swarm all around me,
Trapping me inside my own head.
Pretty soon, I am suffocating,
Please someone save me!
My heart beat races,
As does the thoughts that pick up the pace.
Of sending me memories I've kept and buried so long inside.
They've come back to haunt me tonight.
And as soon as it came,
It was gone,
Leaving me here.
And what was left of me,
Mommy Is A Super HeroMommy Is A Super Hero
Standing before his class, he held his tiny report,
“Who is your super hero?” Was written in yellow chalk on the green board.
Exhaling his breath, the curly haired boy closed his little eyes,
“Don't be ashamed of yourself” His mother's words rung in his ears, “And don't ever cry.”
He began to read aloud, with a shaky voice.
to his class, he told his mother's story.
At age fifteen, she was a beauty queen,
the most beautiful girl in all of the world.
She flaunted her silky hair, bore her bare legs,
prided her breast. The boys treated her like she was a treasure chest.
They respected her rules, they “looked, but didn't touch”,
but there was one older man, who from her, wanted too much.
All alone he met her, he approached her in the alley,
and all his mother told him, was that this man had treated her badly.
But what the boy didn't know was that she was taken against her will,
and that two months later, she turned up ext
The sound of silenceThe sound of silence,
Is so deafening,
That it makes my ears ring,
With the cacophony of my own insanity.
Being afraid to speakThe unpleasantries of past events
Were driven by the voices of contempt
Leaving me breathless
To that effect, I was left senseless
And when I laid under the covers
As I tried to warm myself from the cold stares
I shiver, as my skin turned white
By the solace of silence
But, as I overcame their sadness
I learned to embrace the cold
Until I was able to give warmth to others
Ideationlocked in a room
with only one escape,
or so it seems.
your hands shake and you drop the key.
Suddenly you're unsure.
Do I want to pick it up?
Do I want to find it?
Do I want to leave?
you think to yourself
there's no other choice.
find the key or corrode, or rust
wear down the hinge
use sadness as the key.
You have the answer now.
Just open the door.
Just walk outside and don't look back.
Let yourself leave with no regrets.
And yet you can't.
You're afraid, you think,
but you are actually strong.
Don't run away.
Don't take that leap.
DNAyou are content
because every day
you have the opportunity to
hug both sets of your DNA.
however, i am not content.
half of me is missing
and the other half
is hardly ever here.
Tick, tock...goes the clockTick, tock...
goes the clock
goes the clock
goes the clock
I can't escape
goes the clock
a never ending symphony
why can't it ever leave me be?
goes the clock
in the back of my mind,
even if my ears cannot hear it
goes the clock
there is no place here,
that the ticking does not haunt me
The agonizing stress,
it makes me a mess,
when will quiet be found?
Not even away...
it's always at play
try to break them away,
remove the battery..
but there are too many, the ticks and tocks won't sway
the stress they cause is too much to carry
and so...the panic arises
a mess left to be messier,
but still...the faint..
of the clock.
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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