|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The CallingThe calling
Running through the field,
Wind streaming through their hair.
Beaming smiles upon their faces.
Evanescence is the time gone past.
Now they are vibrant and live without fear.
This is the land that time forgot,
No longer are the shadows murmuring in the unreachable distance,
they are now bright,
The day now holds promise.
More than they had ever thought it could.
Together they sigh, drinking in the pure bliss,
never wanting that moment to end.
The day flows into the warm night.
And then they hear the calling
Reach for the distant star.
Youll reach it if you try.
So stretch, lean out far.
The tiny hands stretch out,
A child like smile lights their faces,
At long last they have found what they was searching for,
Their serene almost silent calling
The Uprising Our Untold WarninThe uprising, Our untold warning
Guided steps willingly taken,
Path of deceit of hate,
Lost words travel, no longer needed.
Blindly they follow each other.
Not why but how,
They drift on the breeze
Simply floating alone till a cease is ordered.
Momentarily all is calm.
Thoughts begin to brew.
Now she guides her own steps,
Takes her own path through the sadness,
through the dark,
Pause in thoughts are no aid when ideas flow so freely.
She can never suppress her fire.
She is strong,
She will rise from under,
And the Ranks fly past.
Not to queen but a guide,
Noble, quick clever and to be feared.
Empty and BrokenEmpty and Broken
She told him that she couldn't handle
her trust to be broken
like so many times before.
He promised her it wouldn't be.
She wanted to push him away;
He convinced her not to.
She decided to let her self go, to trust in him.
She gave in.
Innocence lost forever more.
Now, she lies broken and empty.
Trying to tame her emotions.
Not sure how to proceed.
Her tears land on a parched world.
That is seemingly devoid of all good.
A heavy breath of wind.
She cries, her whole body shakes.
Things will never be the same.
A distant word,
Carried on the breeze.
It is lost as it spins through the air,
It tumbles and falls.
Now meaning nothing at all.
She has grown up,
By a forced hand of life
Turning back is impossible.
The hot wind dries her tears.
She tries to reach for help,
And not to replace her facade,
which she once wore to hide.
Her arms folded tightly across her chest,
Letting no-one new inside.
Perspective PartyPerspective party
A woman walks into the room,
They mingle for half an hour,
She turns to leave,
She close the door,
Imprinted on her memory is every word of the meaningless babble.
It is late,
The temperature has dropped.
The little known artist leaves the room,
Taking with them no item,
but a memory that will forever last;
The hitch in the hosts voice,
the distracting fly that lingered all night on the nearby table.
He frowns slightly,
the girl with the short blond hair hadnt even noticed him.
Even when he tried to approach her she had turned away.
He sighed deeply;
He could not be like his brother; always happy,
Elated just because of flowers or clouds.
First FlightFirst Flight
I have learnt the lessons I was ignoring.
Learnt them painfully.
The window is slid open by lifes hand.
One day I'll fly, but for now I'll gather the feathers.
Were the words I whispered in the dead night and they held deep meaning.
Now the sorrows of the day have melted,
the breeze from the open window rushes in and warms the air.
I can breathe again.
I stand up, now an easy feat.
It feels like I am drawing my first real breath.
In the life that I was always meant to live.
Now life has begun.
I climb up and crouch in the window.
The sun warming, illuminating, no longer blinding.
I leant forwards, snap out my wings which an impressive rustle.
The facade falls away, I have no need of it any longer,
this is where I am meant to be.
I fall a little, the current catches in my wings and I coast.
Im going on a journey.
Where Im going I dont know. That doesnt bother me.
I will find out when I get there, but for now Ill enjoy the ride
The Dark HorseThe Dark Horse
Consistency and expectablity have taken flight,
leaving her behind.
She stays perched.
She looks down, the ground is not far.
All the answers slip away without notice, until its too late.
In the windless obsidian land,
the dark horse runs,
Nostrils flair lost in confusion.
Her soul cries but she does not.
A distressed voice calls out,
She no longer has the strength to answer its plea.
She can do no more.
Her hands ache and she cannot hold on.
She looses grip of the branch, the last thing that kept her aloft.
She falls willingly to the ground.
And there is no more.
A New WorldAmy bounded out the front door in search of her mother. A smile played on the child's lips. She looked around and a clang on metal on wood met her ears. She skipped down the drive way towards her mother. "Mum, can I help?"
"Um, there is not much that you can really do." Replied her mother cleaning of the last clumps of soil from the shovel.
"But please!" Amy whined as she picked up a set of secateurs.
"Oh, I suppose you could do some light pruning of the bushes in the corner." She carried the sentence on a sigh and stressed the word light. Amy grinned and marched off playfully towards the bushes. She went to the corner of the garden and selected a random bush. She unhooked the latch on the secateurs and began clipping small pieces of the bush. One by one the lumpy purple flowers fell to the ground.
Amy looked over her shoulder, making sure that she wasn't being watched. Her mothers shoulder
Laura chased Madison around the playground. The wind throwing her mousy brown curls up and down, Madison squealed in delight as she ran, determined not to become 'it' again.
Anna fiddled with a hole in the picnic blanket that her and her husband sat on as they watched their daughter and niece play. Anna shifted slightly to look at Darren and said,
"Honey, we should get some fish and chips for lunch."
"Yeah, I'll go get 'em, or do you want me to stay here with the kids?"
"No, I'll stay and watch them." Said Anna as Darren slowly got up.
"Four pieces of fish and two dollars worth of chips?" Anna nodded eyes once again fixed on the children. Darren headed off, his feet crushing the green blades of fresh cut grass. He crossed the busy two lane road.
A tiny bell tolled as he pushed open the shop door. He walked up to the counter and a short pretty blonde woman served him.
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
Keep in Touch!