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Soul Burn: Differences (WIP) They walked leisurely, an odd pairing, along the main street heading north of the city. Their voices pierced the air around them as they argued over what had started as a trivial matter. But it was dark, as the lamps lining the street did not cast much light, and so they walked hand in hand,their magic trying to over power the other as much as their words.
"But why doesn't your Kingdom celebrate birthdays?"
"Well, firstly, stop trying to give me frostbite and maybe I'll tell you. You're letting your magic intertwine with your emotions."
"Oh, please. Every time you're irritated I get another blister on my palm. Lead by example, o chosen one." Amanda tilted her head to look up at him, barely suppressing the grin on her face. Garrett raised an eyebrow, trying to look stern, and her laugh echoed against the buildings around them. "Maybe we should try it at the same
Soul Burn: Last Moments The bed hardly made a sound as she laid Garrett down atop the mattress. His paper thin body barely rustled the sheets, while her weight created valleys as she lowered herself down beside him. Their bedroom was silent, the air heavy; she could hear the rattling in his lungs with each breath he drew in.
"I'm not oblivious, Garrett. I knew that as soon as F'neir died your body would begin to deteriorate." Amanda reached up and cradled his face against her palm, her thumb stroking his cheek. "I just hoped the process would take time, a lot of time.
Garrett snorted. "Hey, get that sad look off your face. I could still kick someone's ass if I wanted to."
Amanda wrapped her arm around his chest. His ribs visibly pushed against his skin and scar tissue. She pulled herself into him, her lips fluttering down just below his collar bone. "Shush. You need to rest."
Soul Burn: Death Amanda sat surrounded by a tableful of councilmen and traveling ambassadors. The only familiar face in the crowd was Logan, simultaneously conducting this meeting while watching over her. Her black clothes matched the bruises under her eyes. She cradled her face against the palms of her hands, hair falling limp against her cheeks. She didn't want to deal with this right now; their arrogant words, their pitying looks cast down upon her, their plans on what to do with him. Him. Just the thought of his name made tears spring up behind her eyes, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them well over.
"Well, he may have been a hero, but he didn't exactly have a clean history."
"...can't believe their going to build a memorial in his name."
"Ah, he's just a corpse now. Dead bodies don't deserve much-"
Amanda slammed her fist against the tab
Soul Burn: Choked "What were you fools thinking? Protecting women! Hah!" Laughter rolled out of this bastard, his chest shook with it. "Women aren't worth anything. Certainly not your lives."
Amanda turned her head to view the damage he had inflicted on her teammates. Garrett and Logan sprawled out in the dirt on the floor of this cave. Both were covered in their own blood and barely hanging on to consciousness. Gods damn it! I've lost track of Naz. This was not a situation she wanted to be in; two friends on the brink of death, one missing, and she herself looking this murderer in the eye.
Please Naz, please be alright. I'm going to need your help. Amanda forced herself up off the ground, gritting her teeth. She was covered head to toe in bruises and cuts. Her muscles began to spasm, voicing their objection to her slow, labored movement. She barely had any strength left. But you have to do this. Y
Soul Burn: Observation Amanda stood in the shade cast by the northern wall the Academy’s emerald green courtyard, watching the younger students practice today’s lesson in physical attacks. She was stationed here not only to instruct and correct mistakes, but also to provide medical care. Just in case things got out of hand. Students were paired together based on their opposition in strengths; they differed in everything from physical size, aptitude, and personality.
“The goal of today’s lesson is for you to incapacitate your partner while inflicting a minimal amount of damage. You’ve trained alongside each other for years; you know their strengths and their weaknesses. Out think them, and take them down,” she paused, slowly sliding her worn brown leather gloves from her hands. “Go.”
Some students dived into their fights, others stood still and assessed their partners. Aman
Morphological Bairn glared piercingly at the woman across from him. She winked back, the color of her hair slowly shifting from red to brown. Her eyes shone a brighter blue. Her skeletal structure melted and reformed under her face.
She was toying with him.
First impressions don’t matter much anymore, but he already didn’t like her. In one fluid motion she stepped forward, turned, and let her shoulders rest against the wall. The brick scratched against the fabric of her clothes, which were-
Nope, he didn’t care. Not one bit. Especially not with her willingly flaunting herself like this in public. She leaned into him, whispering, like a child sharing a secret with a friend.
“Come on, big guy. Loosen up a little.” She rolled her shoulder into him. “Play a little game with me.”
Gonei am woken up
from dreams of you
burnt brain matter
in the hollow of my
thump, thump, thumping
goes my heart
my pulse snaking
venom through my veins now
blackening my skin where
bruises blossom and bloom have
taken up residence un
Lock and Keyi keep an image of you,
you know, caged inside my head
he talks to me wonderfully,
and oh, how he smiles
but his eyes are dead.
it may be high time for me
to hand you the key
I locked my heart in a mahogany box and threw away the key.
There was no one to care for - there was nothing left for me.
My heart had ceased beating long ago
after years of misery and pain.
Through countless highs and lecherous lows
I became immune to pounding rain.
I walked without even my shadow as a friend.
Numb to all emotions that surfaced to my skin.
Knowing I would be alone to the bitter end
suffering the consequences of sin.
I was shunned and shamed -
bruised and maimed.
No one cared - no one knew.
No one bothered to change my view.
My life was a silent movie
of a language no one spoke.
With plenty of plot holes for all to see
and an ending of mirrors and smoke.
It was getting hard to catch my breath.
Surely death would be oh so sweet.
Addicted to the thought like Crystal Meth,
it skipped through my head like an erratic beat.
She stumbled upon a key that washed up on the shore.
Wondering what it could unlock.
Determined to solve the riddle and explor
if we were to never speak again.In silence absolute
I almost forgot you,
I almost remembered to forget
you, lonely afternoon
of naked breath,
the softness of sunset
as it rakes along my skin.
The nonchalance of the sky
almost unbearably falters
an outbreak of tears
weigh down my hair
memory of your touch,
memory of your heart,
eyes blinking through the rain
glimpses of turquoise-
blue souls dancing, but
not quite entwined.
claws into my brows,
furrows the flesh
rivulets of thought
that tear through my nervous system
cellular tinnitus, reverberations
in my spinal column,
raising mountains from
my body, darklight clouds
ghosting in the peripheries
of my vision
memory of your touch,
memory of your heart,
a lyrical tattoo
of ripened countryside
a vibrant concerto
washed between us
tidal colour drowning,
from your sweet humour
to my aching sternum
the cliffs fall away
and autumn breaks in upon us,
auburn sorrows of light
I Write to a Lover Who Doesn't ExistYou must've noticed how I was left bleeding
Because all you could do was stare
At me with those gemstones you call eyes.
We danced around bookshelves in the mystery section
Pretending not to notice each other
And ignoring the fact that our eyes kept meeting.
I wonder now that if we'd danced in the romance section
Would we have still ignored that part of ourselves?
And after all, aren't mysteries ment to be solved?
You must wash your hair with sunflower petals and pomegranate seeds
Because your aroma is that of a goddess
And I was attracted to you as quickly
As if you had called my name.
Would you call my name?
And would you say yours as well
Because although I have a feeling you go by Aphrodite,
We have not yet acquainted ourselves.
I shrug into Harry's shirt
underneath my autumn scarf--
cologne on the cuffs bringing
color as I close my eyes,
the brown of his hair,
laughter, pine green.
Fingers on marbled buttons
smooth as the cream
he puts in his chai.
I think of him like rain on a Sunday,
a slow breath uttered in calm,
eyes shut to listen,
he is peace,
stability in grayer moments.
He is the space in my empty bed
I ache for him the way
I crave prayer and
the feel of a rosary.
thuggish loverno more on love. tell me
instead of the hearts you've
beaten, and the way
they kept on
lukedon't leave me again;
the seasons flutter by with
the blink of spider web eyelashes
twirled around the pieces of
my decaying heart, molded
and renewed with the dawn
of your spring palms.
my senses spark in a
drunken flood of desire;
i refuse to wash away
our finger-painted memories
into the grasping swallow of
an atlantic undertow, but
the stale taste of vodka
sleeps under my palette.
you don't arc your silver
tongue to sip my salted
gums or latch your fists
into bird's nest tangled curls
--anymore, and the shivers
of shadows spin down my
splintered spine, the snap
of a twig between your
i'm alone; your cosmic dreams
and galactic eroticism treads
underneath another damsel's
breast, an arrow to her heart.
I wallow, naked and discarded,
drinking and drowning in the
alcoholic buzz of your sweat
on my tongue, all along knowing
you and i will never love again.
If I Were A Love PoetFor my Laban. For my love.
Sometimes, often enough
when my thoughts are consumed
with you- I find myself wishing
that I was a love poet.
Wouldn’t it be beautiful
to piece words together so artistically
that I could make people understand
what it’s like to miss hands
that have never held me?
Wouldn’t it be the damnedest thing,
if I could make a stranger
know how it feels to kiss you?
Sweetly, passionately, softly
Hesitantly- and yet all at once?
Even though their lips have never met yours,
Even though our lips have never met.
How lovely would it be
to sanely, yet romantically
explain to my parents what it’s like
to fall asleep with you?
We could tell them how you giggle when I beg you
to be the big spoon- because I feel like it’s to much responsibility.
We could tell them about the sleepy kisses you give me
at 3 a.m when you find me searching for
Make me a soulMake me a soul next to yours,
Make it small so you can hold it in your hands,
Make it blue like in the morning to wake up in you,
Make it strong to cry in silence when you've gone.
Make me a heart as big as the sun,
Make it warm, make it good,
Good to love, good to give, good to pray,
Make it beat for us, for you, for God.
Make me hands to feel,
Make them pure to touch,
Make them soft to caress,
Make them hard to live.
Make me a voice to sing your beauty,
Make it calm when you fall,
Make it sweet when you're mad,
Make it say 'I need you'.
Make me eyes to see you when you're working,
Even if you don't notice me.
Make them big so you can see yourself in them,
Make them deep so they'll be your refuge.
Take my whole existence and seal it with a kiss,
But make me lips to know you love me.
Make me love to know I live.
Make me know that I can dream.
Make me a soul, please.
Make me yours.
IridescentShe dances along the lines of poetry,
Her curls wind amongst the words
And I lie in love with each syllable
That is touched by her.
Thinking off her is not enough
She wraps round each thought
Like iron wrought ribbon -
In decadent dance
She caresses italics,
Winding her way through
Every dream with ethereal grace.
Iridescent, she taught me colour
Oh seraphim, but I am red, and
She lies in margins blue!
Forever my forbidden phallus,
She is everything taboo.
ReflectionsVal's pursuit led him to the foul beast's domain. The hollowed-out cavern reeked of blood and rancid meat. The dim light he had seen as he charged through the tunnel after the monster could now be identified: torches. Rows of mysteriously lit torches lined the walls of the huge cave. At its center was a substantially large labyrinth of mirrors.
He spotted the beast entering.
He spun his silver broadsword in his hand and hurried in behind it.
His garb was a simple blue and white crusader's leather with thick armored pads and reinforcing steel studs. Lightweight and flexible, but quite effective defense against blunt blows and – in a pinch – the slashing claws of the unholy spawn of the earth. All monster-hunters wore a similar variety in Val's experience. It would serve him well in these close quarters of the mirrored maze.
Right, left, forward, left, right he turned, always catching a glimpse of the beast's tail as he wove his way through the corridors. Every so often he sp
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