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fifteen dragons in flight, gliding through the atmosphere.
each with their own abilities,
each with their own color, and size,
each with their own nature,
with their own destiny...
Winter WonderlandSnow blankets the fields that once were green
This Winter Wonderland which can be seen
Creating starkness in a shade of white
We gaze in awe upon this sight
Snowflakes drifting slowly to the ground
Floating softly without a sound
Placing shapes upon this earth
Filling hearts with Winter's mirth
All wrapped in garb to keep us cosy
Of joyous laughter and cheeks so rosy
We make snow-angels in the snow
Such sheer delight with eyes aglow
Snowballs flying through the air
As children play without a care
Shrieks of glee flow on the breeze
Another memory our hearts will seize
And when the day is finally done
We say far
Mother Nature.Mother Nature.
She is the world’s most notorious serial killer.
No other can be more creative or spontaneous.
Obscuring her weaknesses as her strengths,
Eradicating masses reducing flesh to ashes.
She turns all novels of life into a vengeful thriller.
The effects of her actions are simultaneous.
Her native reach is beyond any man’s length.
The fact is while we worry about taxes,
She could strike again at any given time.
After generations of countless preparations.
We still cannot calculate her complex design.
As she alters her variation to suit any situation.
Some pledge their allegiance to her,
Others doubt whether she exists.
Regardless of the feelings you have towards her.
It is still her terrain to retain, tangle and twist.
With minimal effort she controls the deserts, the concrete and the seas.
She is capable of making grand buildings tumble to their knees.
With ease she can encourage the streets to flourish with disease.
And afterwards create ever green trees with hom
Wolfen SoulI have never wanted to howl,
So badly as I do now.
I can feel the tightening in my chest,
My maw raising toward the sky,
Flattening my ears,
And singing to the moon
To my brothers and sisters,
To my soul that lives out in the forest.
All of it.
I want to drink in the air,
As it swirls around me,
I want to growl, play and bark,
At my pack who live around me.
I just want to be freed,
Of this retched life.
I want to wag my tail
And feel the soil between my paws.
Most of all, I want to howl,
I want to sing my soul for all to hear.
I just want to be free,
To be free in the wild.
Yet I am forced to hold back the feeling.
The tears welling up in my eyes,
Slowly fall down my muzzle.
I dont know if Im happy or sad,
But now I can feel myself calming down.
The feeling has been released for now,
But until it happens again, I will howl for you,
And the life that awaits in the deep green forests,
Of my heart and soul.
*flattens ears and howls*
Journey To StarClan"Clawface!" Spottedleaf hissed, her amber eyes wide with fear and fur bristling. She backed up into a corner, away from the heavily-scarred tom "What are you doing here?" She had never feared this tom- as a medicine cat she was above that- but nowthe evil glint in his eyes sent a chill through her spine.
"Finishing you off, crowfood!" He growled, baring his yellow teeth into a snarl. With eyes gleaming with the light of battle he leapt at her, thorn-sharp claw unsheathed as he aimed for the medicine cat's throat.
"Not while I can fight, fleabag." She threw the insult with determination, some vague voice in her mind telling her that she didnt stand a chance. Her mentor, Icepetal, had died before her training was complete, leaving some things out- including some of her fighting training. She could only dodge Clawface's attack as his teeth snapped next to her twitching ear. Clawface growled and flew onto his opponent's back, and with the skill of a seasoned warrior he pinned her to
Wise Old SageWise old sage how many years have you seen?
How many birds have come to rest in your branches?
How many a sunrise have you watched in your existance?
How many nights have you glimpsed a falling star?
How many scars give witness to lovers who have met here
Hoping to leave their mark upon the world?
Great old sage how many births have you stood here?
How many generations have lain in your towering shadow?
How many children have hidden amongst your plentiful leaves?
How many a swing has been hung upon your powerful limbs?
How many fragments of rope bear witness to the laughter
Of the youth that dare climb upon your bough?
Dear old sage how many storms have you weathered?
How many times have you braved the force of winds?
How many snowfalls have you braced yourself against?
How many times have you blossomed once again?
How many springs have you had to start anew
Stretching your glorius branches towards the sun?
And now old sage you have withered and broken.
Your roots have run dry and your
This Place...The place of which I call upon is not the same for everyone.
For some it exists in the distant memory of who we once knew, close but hidden, shielded from sight and waiting near the door
A place known to me as the Forest of Keepers.
This realm holds the truths I held long ago, now recognized through the books that shed pages and decay.
I find them scattered, as though left by children.
Their covers overgrown with curious moss and vines.
A silence guards them
Something tells me they are stories I once knew.
They grow into the hills and climb ancient bark, forming layers of abandonment across the over-growth.
The sight of this organic knowledge persists to follow me, as lights dart between spiraling crevasses and shadows grow.
Hooves and padded feet drift from the thicket
Truth does not sleep like humans shut their ears to whispers before sundown.
The sun owns a shadow here, though he cannot see it.
A presence moves with you through time
Dew DropDew Drop
Parted without any goodbyes…
falling from the highs
fresh and beautiful!
Just falling freely, with no rule….
All those eyes watching,
see a bright smile, and sing,
"wonderful, delightful, how free!"
The real truth can anyone see?
As it dropped off the leaf,
all eyes gone and solitaire engulfed it's belief
of someone to understand,
that there's a frown behind that smile
None stretched their hand, let it dissolve in the sand
the dew drop's worth just lasted a while…
nobody to understand the story
of the one that lost it's melody,
waiting to be freed from melancholy:
The song of the one, who's lonely…
Ever On Time goes ever on. Ever on, as I sit and wait. The tears bleeding forth from my eyes. My mind in a state of loneliness, as I sit with no one to comfort me.
Have I always been meant to suffer? Or is it that I have done nothing for myself to be at ease. Whatever the case, I only wish I've done something to bring her to me. Now I sit and wait till the day she comes for me....
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
MercyOh sweet God how the grassland
ignites in moonlight tonight
I must thank you for creating
her tangled fingers' slow pace
through the handsome rain Her
trochaic kinesthesia to rhythms
in Stravinsky's The Rite of
Spring Is this how you meant
for us to love you Yahweh
Tumbling clumsily down hills
of sheets into perpetually
immutable silence I could love
you like that I think I've been
practicing on this Savanna
for days and months Lost in
her crystal canvas Rolling crests
and troughs And when she touches
me Oh fair Lord I'm dragged into
your city past Gethsemane's
pulsing green and gold
Please hold us together
under this luminous stretch
Oh Father We are live
unclothed Our reflections awash
with the skin of your sun
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More