|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Guess Who Intro 2Peripheral flash
The shadow of a ghost
All is silent.
Run for cover
Cold wind follows
Snap of steel
Fear digs talons
In your soul
No escape now
Say your prayers
It won't help
The wrong person
Now you die
Slow and painful
Quick and silent
It all depends
Guess Who intro 1Flying silent
On lightning-silvered wings
Your sleep, your work, your mind
Awaiting final war
Rising from black flames
The bullets fly like startled birds
Years of holding back
The blackness spreads
Along each razor pinion
Through the armored shadow
Coming on the storm
Don't let the looks fool you
In a perfect mouth of blades
For the silent stooping death
Pounding heart song
Like a thousand wild horses
Sending evil to its grave
Bad JudgmentI laugh.
You say I can't take it
But it's what keeps me alive
In my moments like that.
Is it a crime to relate?
Did it hurt me in the end?
yet another disorganized poemDid I ever really die?
If I did would you cry
When you looked me in the eye
And saw that I was gone?
Is this just the new beginning?
Starting off with evil winning
And the pale face of Death grinning
At my premature defeat?
Am I not supposed to be here?
Did I curse another new year
With my stupid self-defense?
What did I do wrong this time?
Is this misery all mine?
Did I bring it on myself?
I think there's something else at work here.
Something well-meant but malicious
Something caring but unfaithful
Something mistaken and untrue.
Did I really make a bad move
Or is that just what they're saying?
Did I really get hurt that bad
Or did I just gain more strength?
Will they stop me finding truth
Or will my "fortitude" prevail?
Am I just living on a prayer
Like a ship without a sail?
Will the next time take me down?
Will the next time raise me up?
Will I ever see it coming?
Do I have that much to lose
By keeping someone else from drowning
In despair, or in defeat
Or in a victory so sweet
Um...I hate the world?Never again. I already said that.
My own thoughts all lies.
What am I?
Why am I?
Destructive, so taunting.
Why can't I escape?
Someone help me
But leave me alone
Because I hate you all
Or do I?
Whose logic is faulty?
Yours, mine? The world's?
The world is a fallacy
Hiding behind idolized walking billboards
And paintings of love
On paper-thin glass. Look, don't touch
Or it'll break and cut you to pieces
Come down on your head
Like the weight of the world
And have not the mercy to smash you into oblivion.
Alone but undaunted.
My own hope is torturing me
Like a sign in hell that you're chained to
That gives directions to heaven.
If only these chains could be broken.
Am I down in the dark
Or alone in empty space?
Is it mine to control
Or my own fair mistake?
Did I fall for the tears
Of a malevolent death
Did I really just hear
My own ragged last breath?
Am I stronger now
Than I was before?
Or are you just waiting
To push me through death's door?
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More