Here I stand in my evening dress,
A dress of crimsin, yes, yes.
I look down upon the many things,
I tried and tried to keep out of this dream.
Yes, I look down upon, that which what was mine,
If my sister had not taken over like a holy shrine!
Ha! Why do they love her best!
I am, and always will be the Eldest!
Her head is so tiny, so shrunken and crude,
I'm much more beautiful... Even if I'm rude!
She calls herself a queen! Bah!
Behind me, in front of me,
Upheld in the air.
You whisper to me gently.
You are everywhere.
You are invisible,
Almost permissible.
Not quite confessible.
You are everywhere.
You are a light in the darkness,
Contrasted with blackness,
A beautiful likeness
Of God, Spirit and Son.
With his righteousness in you,
His love all around you.
There's something about you.
You are everywhere.
Not lightly I take this,
Nor heavy I make this,
After a LONG hiatus, I'm back! Hope ya'll enjoy :)
THE DYING ATHEIST
We interrupt this story to bring you an urgent update about the author.
The motion lights flickered on outside, illuminating a figure with a pitchfork. Soon, it was revealed that she was not alone in her protest.
Leaving the family to answer the front door, Tahlia slipped on her coat, picked up her backpack, and went downstairs. She opened the door right next to her bed, stepping out, hoping desperately that she wouldn't be seen. Just as she was about to make her escape into the nearby woods, she was spotted.
*A/N* I am Myself will probably be continued under a different title. Hope everyone likes these!
I’m a parasite with a human face. ‘’Ryan’’ is what I go by now. No one notices anything unusual about me unless it is my blue eyes, glimmering with an unnatural light. I always hide those, anyway. I wear dark glasses. I’m a vampire of sorts, though I don’t drink blood to survive.
I drink memories instead. I suck them out of people. Memories are what has kept me alive, through the centuries. They have to be vital ones. I steal memories through my eyes. My eyes can see memories inside people’s brains.
If I told you there was a sequel to Hot Air Balloon in the works?
I'm really just curious and looking for feedback!
Thanks!
Clare
You have been pushing, pushing
Pushing me
Until I am forced to open.
Grow, plant, grow.
Dig, roots, dig.
It started in May,
But I was still a bud
Until November.
Bloom, flower, bloom.
Drink, tendril, drink.
Now I’m shivering,
Too young to have petals
But not emerald alone.
It is now winter,
And I am going to die.
Thank you???
Live, rose, live.
You promised me
Not dead oaths, but
Flourishing, colorful covenants.