ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
She screams, "Give me something to orbit around!"
I shake my head sadly and she screams again. She thinks I'm denying her this out of spite. I don't know how to explain to her that I can't make her revolve around me, that no one can. She is too magnetic, too strong in her personality to do anything but cause the rest of us to circle around her. Her wide eyes are full of tears and she is racked with sobs. She feels purposeless because none of us can show her how we need her to keep us spinning.
I realize how lonely it must be to be the sun.
I shake my head sadly and she screams again. She thinks I'm denying her this out of spite. I don't know how to explain to her that I can't make her revolve around me, that no one can. She is too magnetic, too strong in her personality to do anything but cause the rest of us to circle around her. Her wide eyes are full of tears and she is racked with sobs. She feels purposeless because none of us can show her how we need her to keep us spinning.
I realize how lonely it must be to be the sun.
Literature
Baphomet
Se arrastraban como serpientes plateadas manchadas de inmundicia por su propia voluntad. Los trapos atados para evitar que sus escamas resonaran entre las vibraciones de aquel frondoso bosque. Latía la tierra despreocupada ocultando el cambio. Los ojos hurgaban insidiosos en la negrura. El zigzagueo se detuvo en las orillas del claro. Ademanes de quietud.
Bailaban desnudos desvergonzados ofendiendo a los no invitados. Cubriéndose con la noche ignorante, comulgando con sus instintos. El fuego danzando en el centro de ellos. Cantando destemplados, alabando a lo inerte, a lo bajo, a la sustancia. Correteando despreocupados d
Literature
Ghost Stories
What once was wisdom,
Oral history learned over decades,
Is now become mere titillation;
Safehouse screams for shallow souls
Or multiplexed adrenal highs.
What once was veneration,
Hallowed for ancestral connection,
Is made over in Mammonite drag;
Branded, wrapped in orange
And marketed as sugar rush.
And yet in hidden corners
Some call the spirits quartered,
Yew tree truthful as ever was;
Pouring wine for the dread nobility,
Denying denial of the ghostly years gone by.
Literature
Satan
May my soul be undamned by the words I piece here,
For as I lay them with ink upon paper, icy hands grip my throat,
Chills rack my spine, aches pound my skull; just for thinking such thoughts.
His form came to me like in a dream, nothing remained solid,
In fact, nothing remained at all upon his exit.
So I now tell this while my hands still serve my will.
His looks are not for mortal words to say, no syllable,
No word, no phrase could carry the weight across a human tongue
To utter his visage even upon paper.
No, the demon-lord's face and body and dress came to my eyes as
Forbidden to look upon directly. And as my eyes averted, his
Suggested Collections
Yeah, just something that's been stuck in my head for awhile. Just quick throwing things out there.
08.29.10
08.29.10
© 2010 - 2024 AnUrbanNomad
Comments11
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
realy, realy love it.