ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I long now to roll back these pages
To see through the mists of the ages
On stories that memories can't tell
Lament not what passed through the fingers
Arresting the scene here to linger
Unsoured by heart's staining shell
If I could but live there forever
No thought for the pain here and after
But holding the truths not to quell
I'd never again live in anguish
Alone in my thoughts left to languish
Remembering just the farewell
To see through the mists of the ages
On stories that memories can't tell
Lament not what passed through the fingers
Arresting the scene here to linger
Unsoured by heart's staining shell
If I could but live there forever
No thought for the pain here and after
But holding the truths not to quell
I'd never again live in anguish
Alone in my thoughts left to languish
Remembering just the farewell
Literature
Demons are Smarter Than You
The mist obediently hovers within the binding circle, coming once more and tamely to my call. How raucous it was when first I summoned it! How loudly it roared its name to the ceiling—how silent were the heavens that night. But now it is silent when it arrives, as silent as the heavens when I call, for I have bade it so. With it comes the sulfurous reek of its home and its own pets—a pair of tiny bat-winged imps no larger than my hand—and a deepening of the shadows in my basement conjury.
The fool has cast his spells of summoning again, and never were more clichéd words uttered than in this room. He thinks I am silent because he ordered
Literature
for unseeing eyes
laden with sky
we stumbled
and painted mockingbirds
on loveless branches
folding in our slender limbs
and ducking under our own
voices, fidgety and frail
against the wall of night.
between the dipping blades
and drawn shoulders
we learned to craft our words
steady-soft,
a drumming rain
that carved canyons
in open hearts and
drew the sunshine to
our supping lips.
keen-eyed, we watched
remembering the weight
of unseeing eyes
and scalding remarks
and we learned to slip
the noose-knots and slide
through the soul-cracks
and somehow
build kingdoms under
upturned noses.
with lyrical uncertainty
and tender determinat
Literature
Clocks For Eyes
The creature with clocks for eyes
Swallows the years as it prowls our garden
Thin and gangly but with dignified grace
It sees the time on everyone's face
One clock is the present
And one clock is the future
There is no past and
You can never go back
The creature with clocks for eyes
Doesn't tell you when its hungry
It never goes without
Because all it could ever need
Is given without question
It has two faces, four hands
An eternity of deadly conscience
Nothing to reconcile with
Nothing to apologize to
It doesn't hear you
When the jaws snap shut for the final time
You'll know the gateway to the past is closed
There is no t
Suggested Collections
Memories are the only window we have to the past, but they are often tarnished by pain. Some of the happiest moments of our lives are often forgotten or drowned in the shadows of later grief. Our memories become marred by loss and before long we lose sight of how things really had felt... in the moment.
© 2012 - 2024 Anovoca
Comments6
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
A fine read.