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100ThemesChallenge - WrathWe saw them kick you and beat you until you were lying, bleeding in the dirt. Broken and tired, with tears running down your face, you stood up, opened your arms, and hugged the entire world.
Nothing VictoriousI saw a new universe begin with a dream,
there was no one else around to notice the difference;
The others, having followed pied pipers for years,
remained motionless, as they had been processed
and were now all plastic icons of Jesus, resting on pallets,
ready to be shipped to China.
They screamed, uttered "Mama," and sometimes
shouted obscenities at the Holy Father,
while in the distance, the occasional bleats of
black sheep told me to stop counting my
blessings and begin noticing the near future.
I looked and saw a white horse, and sitting on
its back was Nothing.
And Nothing told me about his plan:
Nothing will bring order, Nothing will erase our history,
Nothing will make us forget all we've done, and learned.
I climbed on the white horse, and I rode away
with Nothing, heading toward the sunset, where I,
along with Hatred, Bigotry, Greed, Pride, and so on,
perished with the final setting of the sun,
following to the east, the dawn of humanity.
The End That No One NoticedThe Universe blinks and humanity, in all its cruel glory, comes into existence.
It blinks again, and we are gone.
The Air Is In The SkyThe door is open. The bars are weak. The guard is sleeping. And still you cling to the walls of your prison, claiming to be trapped.
The Love And The War"Look." You said at last, exasperated "Think of it this way: how big is your heart?"
I smirk at such an easy question, and hold up my hand, fingers tightly curled. "Here. As big as a fist."
You shake your head, hold up your hand and curl it over mine. "No, don't you see? My heart will always be bigger than your fist."
And Tonight My Prayer Was XIIIAnd tonight my prayer was:
You once asked me: "Why do you look to the ground when you walk?"
"So I can see where I am treading." I said. "Why do you look to the sky?" I, equally bemused.
With a smile you reply "So I can see where I'm going."
The Final BreathShhhhh, lean in close.
Let me let you in on a secret; your last thought won't be wondering what people thought of you, how you dressed, or whether that pair of jeans makes your bum look big. You're last thought will be 'Oh, is it over already?'
The EmbraceIt's just that sometimes when I breath you in, I swear, the whole Universe could fit inside my heart.
Statement of ReasonSanity is the equal battle between logic and feelings, at which none becomes the victor. Insanity is the point at which one of the parties in the battle is beyond reproach.
Untitled 4I don't know enough to be any different,
But that's why you chose me didn't you,
Because I could speak from the heart when nothing else mattered,
Your all too familiar with the story,
It ended with you telling me to stay.
Would it worry you if I chased your demons?
To take the arduous task of driving them from your dreams,
Time heals all wounds,
Everyone has a one scar or another hidden away,
And I am not afraid of yours.
Take my hand love,
Let the water pass between us,
For it carries away all the guilt and shame we once carried,
Look deep into my eyes as I hold you in my arms,
And believe me when I say that your beautiful.
The TrekThe Path is trembling,
This may be my death.
This climb is killing me with bad footing and nearly impossible paths.
Such lack of life on this trek as well as food.
This challenge has taken me,
I have found a new hell for myself.
I'm sick of this now.
It is worse from what I was leaving.
This suffering and pain Why?
I asked for something else.
From halfway up, I'm having my doubts and growing weak.
Fatigue is taking over me and the cold thin air is choking me.
But I will not back down,
I have to do this.
I see it! I see it!
There it is! The End of my Journey!
I am scarred and battered,
Exhausted of what I went through.
HAAH!! HNNG! Ahhhh!
This is it
Amazing I can see the path I used to reach this spot,
I can see where I resided.
It's Beautiful and Massive.
This is where I was?
There is something powerful here
Something has ended but it, i
Been A WhileIt's been a while.
Used to see you a lot, in daydreams and the less-organized poetry I wrote. You were always there to talk to me, to keep me company on those long, bored nights at my basement desk. Every few seconds you'd change shape and gender and appearance, but the personality was always the same. So warm, so friendly, so kind.
So many possibilities
What may have been.
The voice that I created for you is what I remember the most. Androgynous yet natural, and always calm. When no one else would do, when not a soul in this world would understand me, I could always go back to you and my head would clear. How you did that is beyond memaybe it was the anticipation I felt waiting for you to truly come along.
I guess I should be glad
That you were never to be
And that life could go on as usual.
Someday I plan to create a bond, a real bond, I mean, with someone just like you. It was different. I felt for you in a way similar to how I feel for my lover. But you're not the same.
Her Last WordsShe said,
See all my flaws,
See my imperfections,
See all of the quirks.
I'm in pieces, you see.
If you'd pick me up,
Try to mend the wreckage,
It may leave you shattered.
Think before you decide;
The price of helping another
May be hurting yourself.
I'm fading away,
All I ask is that you remember.
I do not ask for you
To piece me back together,
I do not ask for you
To quench the rain.
All I ask,
Is for you to forgive,
For you to not forget.
Don't forget me."
Her last words left her lips,
dissolving in the crisp night air.
A HERO WITHIN USIn the battle between light and darkness
Where do we choose to stand
We only live as mortals
Powerless beyond the fortress of life
We grow like weeds
We rust like steel
Our true self perches
Within the inner realm of our soul
That depicts a diversity of values unraveled
Life is laced with controversy
We decide to possess the quality
Of a true heart and soul.
We choose between good and evil
Who we are lies within us
Every courage we have
Every love we share
Every gift that God has given
Bring us to our glory and fall.
We are unique in our own way
We battle life to survive and inspire others
A determined heart
A generous act of bravery and kindness
Is where our heart and soul lies
For there is a hero within each of us.
The Apathetic YouthHe's mad that this is as good as it gets. The big house, the good school, the nice neighbourhood. It's difficult for kids these days, in a way. The country's very prosperity had become a burden, a dead end. Everything works, doesn't it? At least if you're white and middleclass. So it must often seem to young people that they're not needed. So, in a sense, it's as if there's nothing more to do.
Except tear it apart.
A Turning Point in the Clockwork WarA war of attrition
depends on supply and drawdown,
how much you have and how much you use up.
With personnel, the balance concerns
the influx of recruitment versus
the outflow of casualties, deserters, invalids.
There is only so much loss
that a fighting force can sustain
and still fight.
Pilot Claude Archer was the first
to challenge his invalid discharge.
"I don't need legs to fly," he said,
patting the healed stumps of his thighs.
"My Osprey runs on elbow grease."
The members of the discharge board
paused and looked at each other.
What he said was true.
The Osprey-class fighter jets
relied on hand controls,
and a sharp eye and iron nerve.
Fingers flicked through the stack
of discharge papers -- so many, many pages.
So many soldiers lost, never to fight again.
They could not afford to let slip even one
who might be retained, somehow,
to face the front line once more.
Far less could the war effort spare
one of its best pilots.
So they put Pilot Archer back on the roster,
The Panic Room (A Supernatural One-Shot)“Dean…? Dean?”
The name felt like lead on Sam’s tongue, so thick and heavy that he wasn’t sure if the syllable had actually made it past his lips.
The only reason he was aware of something cutting into his neck was the trail of red that was marking a small pathway against the stark fabric of his shirt. The dark suit and tie that usually accompanied the white-collared look were missing, but he couldn’t remember why.
His brother’s name seemed to drop soundlessly into the dark space before him. Everything felt heavy. Dull. Maybe he was dreaming.
But dreams shouldn’t smell of dust and abandonment. They shouldn’t be framed by cobwebs and wallpaper so aged that their floral design has faded into funeral bouquets. They shouldn’t have flickering candlelight and robed figures looking down on you.
No, dreams shouldn’t be like that.
But Winchesters don’t have dreams. They have nightmares. Sam smile
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