The Hollow Queen
Once, she had ruled every room she entered. Laughter followed her like music, mirrors adored her, and men stood a little straighter when she passed.
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Once, she had ruled every room she entered. Laughter followed her like music, mirrors adored her, and men stood a little straighter when she passed.
The thing about Oberon that makes it so difficult to write is because it is about this tight knit family and yes I do put a little bit of myself into each character so that I can analyze them in that...
She awoke, the cold light of morning creeped through the drapes as if it were planned to rise her from the cold dead she sleep she bestowed onto herself, bottle still in hand, third night in a row.
Brittle and dried up like leaves. Or crackling like a fire. Or sweet and high like a bluebird. Perched on a towering spire. Low and smooth like the notes. On cello or on bass.
Here you come with your face of gloom. Single handily clearing smiles from the room. Feeling sorry for yourself you've turned into a career. From behind judgement glasses you look and sneer.
#acrostic. *15+ a little bit strange and nonsensical. (A) more a more a more of amour. (M)any a men who have fell..how they fall. (O)ccasional meets for the occasionally weak.
A normal job would be nice,' Neyl thought to himself as he rifled through the chest of drawers. Idly, he wondered if it could be called a job at all. He came to the decision that it could.
The hour long lesson dragged on. Social Science was found in the oldest block of the school, quite ironic for Modern Studies. The teacher was old, decrepit and a hunchback.
Moving through the blackness. With puddles at my feet. In this shitty part of town. There's someone I must meet. I work for the bureau. And she is just a whore. But right now there isn't anyone.
#acrostic #demimonde. Demented sick twisted. Everybody this girls hedonistic. Mystic in her intrinsic displays. Insatiable is her appetite of. Men and their wage. Occupational health hazard.
The way you kiss a cigarette,. Caress the filter gently. Between sarcastic and cursed lips,. Smile like a knife edge,. You are as intoxicating as. The smoke you blow in waves,.
"What's Crag's problem. Does he always make digs at you and Marty?" I asked as we stepped into the lift. Rachel was right. The lift was finished just after breakfast so I could go upstairs.
I slept in the living room that night, on the small sofa, with the thought of, "you don't need that much room, you can't use your legs." It doesn't really work like that.
Every day, he sits at the bar A tankard of bitter glued to his palm, He wears his best shirt in the absence of occasion Talks to the hikers, but with the absence of conversation When it’s quiet in...
She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, The flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her.
First period, Sally sits on me, Does her work consistently, Never smiles, Never laughs. I let my mind ponder why, But then I relapse. It's not my business, Just my thoughts.
There's a fella at work That I write about Eighteen feet tall And a great noisy lout Most of the time He's an absolute dick Completely unfunny And boring.
Fractured features and a crooked smile to match. Disillusioned morals with hard skin and a working ethic. Liked, not loved. Feared, not respected. A coward in many an eye.
Once there was a lady They called her Scatter Brain. Her mind was a little shady, Like a book left in the rain. Oh, the pain. Scatter Brain. She didn't know the refrain.
Coat drawn tight around his shrivelled body ,Sam stood ,stooped over against the cold and shifted his weight laboriously onto his walking stick,on the rough cobbles of Swan Street.
#pundaymonday It was a cold day in January, When a man named Phil Lew, Got up out of bed, Wiped his nose and Put a hat on his head, And decided to wreck havoc.
Windows to the Soul Unto the eyes I look and see The soul of the wretched, catastrophe Revealing its lies to you and me Of chaos and greed, true belief Terrible lies of death and grief Horrible...
There's a troll under the bridge Though he's dressed a knight's armour, He insults with a joke And his smile seems quite disarming, He's apt to change his mind If he feels its in his favour, He might...
She's afraid to love. She loves to love. She's open to love. For he's her love. She didn't mean what she did. She regrets what she did. But they all know what she did. The unthinkable thing she did.