[x]

Twas a Dark Night in Karsyn...Twas a dark night in Karsyn
And all through the Inn,
Not a creature was stirring;
Not even Ethan.

The weapons were hung
by the chimney with care
In hopes that no bandits
would soon be there.

Ekyrans were nestled all snug in their beds
while visions of fencing danced in their heads.

And Nale who was snoring; and I wide awake,
had just settled in, this holiday to partake.

When out in the woods there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.

Away to my weapons I flew like a flash,
Flicked out my katars and to the window I dashed,

The moon rose high over white hills of snow,
Shining 'round figures g

Enough to Burn. ‘Hellfire’, as I’ve come to dub the term, has a way of surprising you. It pops up when least expected and sets things in motion that should’ve never been set in motion, or even perceived of being set in motion. It starts in the core of some poor soul’s heart, and begins to eat away at them; gnawing furiously until it can consume their better judgment and eventually their humanity. Thus smothered they become something thoroughly engulfed in rage. I’ve witnessed the rippling heatwaves roll off a businessman gone mad as he carried a shotgun high on the 6 o’clock news. I’ve seen it flow between two women h

Ladybug. Ladybug
No hardened shell
Or fragile disruption
Just something safe
Lucky and filled with
Faith.
No fabled abandonment
No distrusted friendship
Every spotted flaw
A shard in a crystal
Mirroring the prism light
Of every dancing thought
That illuminates your
Diamond soul.

Chapter 4: Fixation RewriteHammering. Someone, hammering at the front of my head--no, the front door. Hammering with a hammer; hammerhead shark, hammered and wasted all at once--
I popped awake, but the noise continued, drowning out the droning blare of a radio clock forgotten on the dresser. Cussing and fumbling upright, I wrenched my cell phone off the nightstand (battery low, super) and checked the time. 10:45 in the a.m. Actually, fuck that, I hate when people use the term “in” before “a.m.”. And “the” in-between, of course. Fucking unnecessary, I say.
“Kale!” Another voice cried out above my dizzy, pre-afternoon thoughts.

The Quiet Lotus. The quiet lotus. A simple flower, really, whose petals do not try to rival the other botanical wonders.
The quiet lotus. A shy flower that withdraws into the water despite the fiery shape of its petals and the glow of its golden center.
The quiet lotus. Drenched in the droplets of diamond rain that continuously fall, never once believing their glittering praises make a difference.
The quiet lotus. Softly stating its thoughts with little waves of its fronds, enticing sunlight to kiss it, but shying back to hide amongst the muck once more.
The quiet lotus. A flower unafraid to bloom, but wary of what others might think of its photosynt

if a dog dies in the forest...Narcissus died because his reflection was too beautiful.
Or so they say. Perhaps he starved to death, or fell into the water and drowned. I studied the reflection in the rippling pool and reached out my hand to disrupt the image. Lay still the waters, make them a mirror. The clarity of truth lay somewhere at the bottom, but my reflection blockaded me from seeing what was there.
Troubling times. Smoke in the distance rose with acrid warning, stinging the air and reducing its clear, sweet scents. Burning decay crumbled in the forests beyond. Something watchfully took flight and cawed out a frantic warning. I repressed a shudder and slowly

Chapter 2: Spark RewriteI was jarred out of a sound sleep once again by the shrill shrieking of a cellphone as it rattled across the nightstand to my right. Swinging an arm down, I swatted the green object from hell open and listened to the crackling of the speakers. Jaw heavy with five o’clock shadow and sweat, I grimaced and scraped my fingers across the sandpaper surface. As if waiting for the confirmative greeting, the din on the other end of the phone grew noisier. I sat up in semi-darkness and scowled, before picking up the mobile and tapping it off speaker.
“Hullo,” I managed to get out groggily before a grating voice barked on the other end

Of Roses and Fauns.The woods were dappled golden green, the light dancing through the leaves with a kaleidoscope of single-minded purpose, to warm the earth in falling summer, be it in beams that shot through the weaker leaves, or pixie-like spots that swirled above the ground. The sound of flutes and pan-pipes echoed in the silence of the ancient foothills, trilling in the air and offering breathless, lilting voices to the air. Footsteps pounded over the stony hillsides, under the waterfalls and over the natural bridges of rock that connected one hill to another, as figures rushed through the trees as though borne on by the wind, odd silhouettes that bordered

LCE Prize - Broken Aphrodite.Warm water hissed over my aching spine and puddled like piss at the basin of the shower. Ducking my head under the heated liquid, I tilted my face from side to side and shook my head akin to a dog. In the other room, even over the whining hum of the flickering shower, I could hear the wheezing snore of the ten-dollar whore I’d chosen to associate myself with for the night. Coughing and spitting out shampoo that tasted vaguely like ass and vodka (probably was), I scraped my fingers over my scalp and tried to drag the mats out of my hair.
Seventeen weeks to the day and I haven’t seen her. I couldn’t see her, even if I wanted t

When Darkness Comes.Ever get one of those instances when everything feels like it’s going to be torn apart
And you’re just left craving a release more than anything else just the fabric of reality
To be torn in two and ripped in half the very veil of the temple or whatever it’s called
To be pulled from its stony foundation to flutter to the ground and it hurts and sometimes you just
Want to take whatever wyrm is writhing inside of yourself and rip it through your chest trailing all the internal organs
And eternally internal self-damnation
To gut yourself clean and solid once again I am solid this is what I am and always will be
And th

50kb says you think thisBlue zone stretches wire
Yellow lines and broken tires
Big old buildings with gap-toothed sneers
Crumbling and decaying throughout the years.

What lies beneath the sordid land;
A heart for a heart, a hand for a hand?
Rhythm in hips that sway to-and-fro,
Harmony is where your lips know to go.

And a red balloon in the dusty sky
Flickers its string as if saying good-bye
And the cotton candy taste of cinnamon sin,
Sets in paralyzing, you can’t give in

Summer sun, with your rays gleaming and bright,
Take not from this place of darkness and light
Don’t tip the scales unless you need to shout,
So throw back your head and let

Fairy Survival GuideGather ye close by my fireplace,
And have a drink wi’me.
I’ll advise ye on your journey, boy
With the laws of the Fairy.

Therein are the laws of time,
The Fairy Woad unbound,
Seek ye not the dangers find
Or lest shall ye be found.

The First Law is of food and drink
Take not what offers giv’n
Or sacrifice for noble tongue
The life of a mortal striven.

The Second Law is of the man
Whose courtesy undoes him
Should ye see a woman old
T’would be wise to help her limbs.

The Third Law, should all else fail
And ye be lost beneath the earth,
Do not forget to count the time
Each sundown and sun-birth.

The Fourth

regrets n b flat, sharp cand

parked in my head
are the enunciations
pronunciations

of a million things

empty cradles
and spilled soups
fierce denials
fiercer declarations

of love

and it's no wonder
that when they press

against the backs of my eyeballs

that out will leak a tear or two

like oil,
to relieve the pressure
of my battered rig
or tormented

skyscraper citywindows lot.

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More from ~yourpleasantdarkness

undertowsometimes when breath comes
like the creeping of a spider
over the surface of the skin

and turning does nothing;
as emptiness resides behind--
laughing, singing, it waits

and chortles in dissident glory,
its own fiendish pleasures ignite
on the cusp of momentary thought

without the ghosts of electricity
such impulses would not fire,
and residency of the mortal race

would find itself discarded
and left without preface.

lunar eclipsewe turn
on revolvers and stare
the gunpoint vision;
a gaze unfair,

in rapture we watch
and vibrate

with the fluttering of
forgotten moth-wings
donning arms

thin as rails.

and in pools of yellow
with shards of ice
we stream the call
we bolt for one another

leap and land
on platforms, and slip

crash through mirrors
planes of sheer plum glass
inverted without spines,
we plummet and plunge

through ripples of slow motion
edging onto infinity,
our guitar-string minds will sing
with the thrumming call
of ageless disappearance

as we rush into nothing
and fall,

our ink
is Lewis Carrol black

and our vision
has softly fade

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Submitted: December 11, 2008
Image Size: 1.7 MB
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Camera Data

Make:PENTAX Corporation
Model:PENTAX K10D
Shutter Speed:1/60 second
Aperture:F/3.5
Focal Length:18 mm
ISO Speed:100
Date Taken:Nov 24, 2008, 3:29:01 PM

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Viva mi Vita.by ~yourpleasantdarkness

Digital Art / Photomanipulation / Fantasy

_{"Thou art but a passing shade
on the pattern of the world
an unwoven thread
cast aside, yet walking still, still, still
across the mortal plane
with fire in your veins
with weapons wrought of will."
- "Winnowill" by Myerex C. Costrana, esq.

-

"Their words mostly noises,
Ghosts with just voices...
Your words in my memory,
Are like music to me..."

- "Set Fire to the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol.

-

whewww. so many things running through my head at this moment...
here's the dedication to `Elandria I promised to make. = 3 = another new style: no textures used.
I'm tired and a bit jittery. I'm going to go lay down for a while. :']; <3

enjoy.}

-A.C.
_{-

Stock Credits:
Model: `Elandria
Dog: *Tasastock
Forest: =steppeland
Brushes: *redheadstock, and one other I'm having trouble locating...will update / fix later. :\}

-

ONLY , , , , :iconfantasyfellowship: have permission to repost my work. Thank you.

-A.C.

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

*Ghost-of-Ink Dec 28, 2008 Hobbyist Writer

I love the contrast in this Plea~ Yes, she's a woman in a gown, but she's carrying a sword and has this look of determination.

<3

Reply

~yourpleasantdarkness Jan 3, 2009

<3 I love Elandria's stock for that. She's such a...classic warrior-woman, like in the Tamora Pierce novels, you know (perhaps I'm just a nerd)? <3 thank you.

-A.C.

Reply

*Ghost-of-Ink Jan 3, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

>3> I think we're all nerds Plea~ _{Tamora Pierce is amazing~}

Reply

Mood: Wow!

!TomAraya1981 Dec 13, 2008 Hobbyist Digital Artist

very beautiful work, and i love the colors

Reply

~yourpleasantdarkness Dec 13, 2008

> w < thank you very much!

-A.C.

Reply

Mood: Joy

!TomAraya1981 Dec 13, 2008 Hobbyist Digital Artist

you are welcome

Reply

!CSnyder Dec 12, 2008

very nice my friend
wonderful scene

Reply

~yourpleasantdarkness Dec 12, 2008

:'] thank you!

-A.C.

Reply

!CSnyder Dec 12, 2008

youre welcome!

Reply

*Tasastock Dec 12, 2008 Hobbyist Photographer

nice ^^ i like it

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