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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…
PikeHey, you. Would you throw me a line?
I've been growing old down in this swimming hole ever since I saw my first tadpole. I keep getting fatter and what matters begins to change. I think I want to fully see those funny fractions that gleam in tiny ripples glimpsed while I wait under one dark rock first, then another. I know all the moss under these rocks and the toss of skipped pebbles. I know the sight of something to eat as a treat, but now I'm beat. I'd rather be someone else's feast.
Anybody up there? Throw me a line, would you?
A line I'll take by the hook without even much of a sinker. Just let me have one look. I hear your word-distortions laughed above me, about the oldest one never caught right here. I know you mean me. If you'd only throw the line now, it'll save me from so many years spent entirely wet. If you could, would you please give me time in full light for even a scant moment of a new life not met yet?
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More