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Literature Text
The sun doth shine bright,
not a cloud in sight.
Yet it doth freeze,
with nary a breeze.
No warmth to be found,
anywhere around.
not a cloud in sight.
Yet it doth freeze,
with nary a breeze.
No warmth to be found,
anywhere around.
Literature
Never Fall Again
She thought that if you looked,
compared herself to any one of them,
you'd think that she'd be the rainy ending
given to a perfect day.
And when she swore that she'd never fall again,
she meant it.
It didn't feel like falling because she was numb,
she couldn't tell the difference between
a knife and a feather at this stage.
And the monsters,
they all lived in her eyes.
They didn't let her see,
they just reached out and pulled her eyes shut,
but when she wanted to close her eyes, they
pried them open and she had no choice.
She'd always been a silent one,
and she'd always sticked to that.
And the energy that rushed and rushed
through her,
wa
Literature
Assassin's Dilemma
I never received my missions like most agents in the CIA. No roundtable discussions with files laid before us and slideshows on the projector. No "wheels up in 30" nonsense. A file with all the info would be sent out with a messenger that had no idea what they were actually doing. The drop would be made, I'd pick it up. Review, research, prepare, engage, neutralize, report, get paid.
It was what I had done for years and in fact, I got so good at it, I started playing two sides. Yeah, risky. I know. I knew the risks the moment I let the fucks approach me. If they were able to find me, ME of all people, they'd be able to take me down if they w
Literature
The Woman In Black.
Hollow.
There is no other word fitting enough to describe her eyes. If one could even call them eyes, for to me they were shadows, sunken black holes in a sunken white face. Paper thin, her pale skin stretched painfully over razor sharp cheekbones, so thin it was almost translucent.
Her lips were two dead roses. Once, there had been colour there. Youth, life. Now, the blossoms had withered, leaving only two white husks to remain. Barely there, she was a ghost, a spectre of her former self, all the years of bitterness and hatred and pain bleaching away her beauty.
A sheet of sorrow, akin to a shroud, was the black veil that frosted over her
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Composed on 01/23/2014 based on the days weather on my way home from classes.
© 2014 - 2024 GamerGoddessDin
Comments1
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I like the use of archaic language. An interesting poem. Thankyou for sharing.
Regards,
John.
Regards,
John.