ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
sister addra,
the low rumble of thunder is here.
graceful jumping, running,
running racing flying over the ghazal-sung gold land
it's hunger or hunter faced all alone;
trade the swiftness and disappear.
fangs and claws, hooves and horns,
bones for trophies
painted with shotgun carcasses
a notice riddled with bullet holes reads:
'extinct in the wild'
the low rumble of thunder is here.
graceful jumping, running,
running racing flying over the ghazal-sung gold land
it's hunger or hunter faced all alone;
trade the swiftness and disappear.
fangs and claws, hooves and horns,
bones for trophies
painted with shotgun carcasses
a notice riddled with bullet holes reads:
'extinct in the wild'
Literature
fifteen.
.
i.
gluttony.
48 days.
that's how long it takes to starve a famished love; skinny things never survive the winter. all jutting joints and harsh angles, the cold makes it shiver like hypothermia. blue; lips like the sky, eyes like the sea, hands that forget to hold each other in this frozen paradise.
48 days.
that's how long it took for our love to shudder itself to death, too full of itself, of the roiling ocean foam, of the pretend sailor who thinks the shore is whiter, blacker, better somehow on the other side of the continent.
a month and a half is a long time to think that you're in love.
ii.
wrath.
the winter has no patience for the
Literature
The Decay
i.
We found each other like hope
on the coldest, darkest day of January.
You took my hands, eyes soft like the clouds
before rain and promised me a whole life
that was not yours to give.
No one had taught you
about borrowed forevers.
No one had taught me about people
like you who looked like homes
but were quicksand instead.
ii.
This is how we ended:
I stopped talking
but you didn’t notice
because you stopped listening
long ago.
iii.
People fall in such deep, dark love
with each other that they forget
that love is a perishable thing.
They hold on long past the love growing bad
until one of them finally catches scen
Literature
Fate
What's done can never be undone; written
in blood, bathed in the stars are life's
precious strands forever stained by
what's been decided.
Time is nothing when it's snuffed out as
a candle lit at midnight.
The paths that are laid out for all comes
from beyond, hammered within concrete
hearts and digs deep linking with age.
Echos of decisions in similar orders
one, two, and three on the paths of
purpose are not luck.
Fate is forever unchanged.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Day Twenty-eight of NaPoWriMo/gliitchmonth! 
inspired by the setting/imagery of yesterday's poem. not sure how i feel about this. they deserve something more beautiful.
but it's true.
inspired by the setting/imagery of yesterday's poem. not sure how i feel about this. they deserve something more beautiful.
but it's true.
© 2017 - 2024 PatchworkLynx
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In