|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Spectre Romantica Prologue and Ch.1Spectre Romantica
On that fateful midnight, a house was pitch black except for a single, fleeting, moment in time as lightning struck. The bolt of plasma temporarily illuminated the insides of the unsettled dwelling. The stairs creaked ominously while the only living being in the place scurried down them. The figure did not belong in this home. The true residents - a couple and their daughter - were sprawled out on the wooden floors of newly polished oak. A white rug in the second bedroom was sprinkled with scarlet. The crimson tears of hearts flowed out from gaping wounds on the lifeless bodies in torrents. The figure hesitated, glancing back at the staircase behind him, before fleeing the scene. A scene, so brutal the small town of Glenwood, Rhode Island couldn't have possibly imagined it; even in the citizens' most horrid of nightmares
Chapter One: Oddities
The rain trickled down lightly. You could hardly call it rain at all, but the boy could hear it's pitter-p
BreatheDizzy, swirly, can't stay straight.
The help I seek will come too late.
Thoughts are all muddled in head.
I can't even tell what I have said.
Heart is thumping, head is aching,
labored breathing, body shaking.
Pull it together, you'll be okay.
Just gotta take it day by day.
Slow your breath and lay real still.
Those thoughts will only make you ill.
It's tough to know where to begin.
Just start simple. Breathe out, breathe in.
Life without animalsL onely
BlindWhen I close my green eyes
If I focus I can see
People and places from my past
Etched in my memory
If a blind man closes his eyes
What can he possibly see
Without any visual images
Stored in his memory
How do I describe colour
To man who is born blind
The same way I describe my love
Within these heart felt rhymes
When I close my green eyes
I use my mind to conjure up
Dreams of the future, based on
Pages already written in my book
If a blind woman closes her eyes
What future can she see
Unable to visualise
Her fate and her destiny
How do I describe colour
To woman who is born blind
The same way I describe my love
Within these heart felt rhymes
Abba, Father, Daddy in Heaven!
cuddle me in your tender arms,
I need your comfort!
I become lonely on Earth when I sin,
for that seperates me from Your perfect love,
and makes me vunerable!
I'm sorry for all those sinful things I do,
and I need you so much more,
please carry me in your arms of love!
like a child craving for milk,
I crave your Spiritual milk,
And you're there, as loving parents are!
God the Father is my loving, heavenly Father;
God the Son, Jesus, is my Redeemer, and also closest friend;
God the Holy Spirit is my connection with You on Earth,
and my Fellowship
For You are the One true God,
Perfect in harmony, the perfection of the Trinity,
3 persons in 1, and always my loving Father!
But You're not only a loving parent,
for Earthly parents still die,
but You are my eternal, Abba, Father God...
...and my closest friend!
ArmstrongHow was that one small step,
that toe press to the unknown world,
with dust as soft as sleep beneath
your rigid sole?
How strange to be alone.
In your airless world you walked,
a bubble man. A diver surfacing
beyond the imagination of
coelacanths and arctic squid.
You gaped like a fish, perhaps,
astounded at the airless air.
Perhaps your lips were tight,
your nostrils flared, calm
and infused with wonder.
Perhaps your heart beat harder.
a launch pad your springboard,
a world of dust your new land.
I wonder if you wished to
slip your glove. To lie face flat
to your desolate ground, to sink
fingers in and grasp that silt.
To know that you were there
with a gardener's dusty hands.
Big vs SkinnyYou say that big is beautiful
That it's the new 'in thing'
You talk about how nice I'd look
If only I weren't thin
But will you come to realise
That it really isn't right
To say that we're not big enough
And take our name in spite?
You may have gotten insults
From some idiotic men
But when you call us skin and bones
You're just as bad as them
To say that big is beautiful
Is fine and true to say
To say that big is better
Is to think a hateful way
Nothing's better, nothing's 'right'
We're built to look unique
To say we're pretty, big and skinny
That's the peace I seek
It's easier to get along
When we're not starting fights
To see the wars of big vs skinny
Aren't such pretty sights
So lets find a happy medium
To stop this pointless hate
Let's have respect for everyone
No matter what their weight
And when we all abide by this
We'll see what happens then
A world full of less hate and fear
And more friendship again
Hunting Avalon's MoonBeneath a sky of Kings, mortal life quivered
Warm rains spilled a fever of unborn dreams;
like a silent song of golden pollen falling in
timeless reverie, seeding forests arcane
The dawn of enchantment crested ancient lands,
adorning the hunger of shadows and spirits
Long I stood in the flow of primeval rapture...
where unto the hallowed beckoned wild
I slept in the cradle of Nature's magick,
windswept in feasts of tongue & flame
Dreams and dreamers, in haste I did reap
And I thrusted my sword into the sky
Ever night's bequest, the stars shall not die
Thru seasons of fabled rhythms I roamed;
my soul etched into the mists of time
O'er pastel fields, untamed memories seek
In a circle of Kings, I shimmered in ebon robes
Perfumed eyes gathered like nightingales
And I watched upon gossamer tides
Merlin caught her gaze resting among
the promise of stars and beloved Moon
"Thou art heavenly clad in velvet starlight"
She fled upon his song & wept in quietude,
In Grandpa's Eyes
From the time that she could walk and talk
she could never quite get it right.
Her mommy would call her spiteful names
and then scream "Get out of my sight!"
Nothing she did was ever enough
no matter how hard she would try.
The pictures that she would draw for mom
never got more than the usual sigh.
But when she would go to grandpa's house
greyish skies would turn sunny blue.
In grandpa's eyes she could do no wrong;
his love for her was kind and true.
Her grandma had been ill for some time
making it hard for grandpa to cope.
But when she came with those dark brown eyes
her visits would fill them with hope.
By the time that she was twelve years old
her dear grandma had passed away.
Her mother had found a new lover;
they left her and went their own way.
Alone and afraid and feeling low;
suddenly, a knock at the door!
Grandpa was there to rescue his girl...
and he promised to be there for her evermore!
The Pixelated Mani am just a single pixel,
a tiny dot on the digital canvas of my life,
a speck of grey in a sea of color,
a whirlpool of life and frivolity,
yet the sea is far away,
i am but a single pixel on a blank canvas,
a single pixel can never see a bigger picture,
yet somehow i am okay this way,
a single solitary pixel,
and yet all the same i cling to hope,
i hope that one day i will be joined by other pixels,
so that we may form a beautiful picture,
a special little masterpiece
When a Raven Forgets How to FlyWhen a Raven forgets how to fly,
Grey clouds shalt bloom in the sky.
Thoust will cryith out "why?
"Oh, Raven why must thou die?"
Forthsooth when a fowl forgets how to sour,
From the heavens, the floods will pour.
Though be it a bad omen,know that forever more
All the lost souls surely will cry,
When the grim-reaper 'Raven' forgets how to fly.
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More