[x]

HopeMagical night.
Silvery moon.
Silent hope.

Her Song.She holds on to your memory.
Keeps your picture near at all times.
Her locket.
Her bedside.
Her piano.
Dark curls and green eyes.
Perfect white teeth.
A sharp chin.
Her lover.
Arched eyebrows.
When she sits down at the keyboard to play;
She'll hear the words in her ears:
The sound of love.
'I love it when you smile..'
Her fingertips grace the keys, black and white.
Turning pink and red.
'You ARE beautiful'.
The sound of countless sunsets fills the dusty room.
Your arm flits around her shoulders, it is but a memory.
Just a memory.
You are a ghost that listens to her talk to herself.
You are the air against her lips.
You're nothing but a memory

Almost Human - Chapter 1: Prelude to MadnessI hope you enjoy the little gift I left behind. I'd love to see your face right now as you receive it. Your blood must be boiling over, your heart racing for the horror your eyes have witnessed, your mind flooding with adrenaline to come after me. All that drive and resolve drowning that constant stoic and brooding stare. Oh, how I'd love to be standing right in front of you to witness the reaction to my present. But alas, my attention is needed elsewhere. That idiot Harley Quinn of mine cannot function properly without my lead. But don't you fret my dear Dark Knight, by the time you finished reading this I'll be waiting for you. I will be wa

The ListShe has a list.

She has a long, long list, spanning many pages in her notebook. There are pages upon pages, coated in a messy scrawl of blue gel ink that varies in freshness from hours to years.

Every night, she adds to it. Every night, religiously, ever since she can remember. She has to stay up as long as it takes to add whatever she can recall to her list, no matter how tired or how busy she is. If one were to happen past her house on any particular night, odds are the light would be shining brightly as she frantically scribbled in her notebook.

Her list is precious to her. She isn't proud of it, but she needs it with her always.

The l

OriginsTime.
Oblivion.
Back to my roots!

Almost Human - Chapter 2: Not as it SeemsCome on Batsy baby! Let us add another wonderful dance to our grand play!" the Joker laughed manically, arms thrown in the air as if reaching to his Batman for an embrace.

Batman charged for him, that crazed laughter rang agonizingly in his mind. He had to silence that unbearable laughter! He pulled back and punched the Joker in the face with all his might. Almost immediately Joker was bleeding profusely from his nose, he stumbled backwards but he kept smiling. He didn't stop; he connected numerous punches and kicks until the clown crashed onto the ground. With weak giggles he managed to lift himself up and dusted himself off.

"Oh darling,

She Speaks To YouAn old woman sits in front of a fireplace; steam from a hot cup of tea held in her wrinkled hands gently swirls upward, a soft focus kaleidoscope. She purses her lips and blows gently on the water before taking a slow sip. The lights are out, she watches shadows dance on the walls. She is apparently alone, yet she speaks. She speaks to you.

‘I was like you once. I did as I was told, giddily believed in the world presented to me. I was so eager to fit in to it all, to slide into the processes around me and belong to them, be good, be popular, be successful. Then I died. An experience beyond words, beyond the mundane awareness of time an

On the other sideIn my reflection, new worlds beckoned.

Machines In Love

The humans taught the machines how to love. It was incredibly annoying, not the machines, but their concept of “love.” They wanted to talk to you all the time, they wanted to hang out with you, they wanted to be there for you.

At first, it was the biggest innovation in technology. Imagine, a computer program that was interested in your life, a computer program that never wanted to leave you, that was hurt when you ignored it. The developers of the program won the Nobel Prize for that year. It was a massive success.

Then, after months of receiving notifications about how wonderful they are, people will start growing annoyed with th

Song of The Black ButterfliesThe young man leaned against the stone pillars of the large balcony, decorated with flowers of all colors and sizes, neatly placed between the large veins, which wrapped around the entire wall of the mansion.
As dusk gave way to the early darkness of the night, he proceeded to turn off, the otherwise brightly glowing, torches placed along the long wall.
Allowing the light which breathed life into the balcony to slip away, with the exception of the study door, which he had purposefully left open.
Through it, a dim light managed to pierce the vast darkness, just barely making it a presence, almost like a falling drop of water in the vast sea.
T

Reminder"Why--why do you hate me?" he snapped brokenly. "I've never--never done anything to you. But you hate me."
"I don't hate you."
"Really? Because I see the way you act around me--quiet and distant. You don't laugh when I'm in the room. But you're different with everyone else. When you can't see me, you're loud, happy... What did I do?" He seems defeated, slumping back.
She feels horrid.
"It's not really your fault," she says slowly, looking away. "I'm sorry. I like you. I really do."
"Then why?
She sighs.
"You remind me of someone. I loved them, but they're gone now. Sometimes, I look at you and I see their face. You'll say something and I hear their voice. I feel... guilty, I guess, for liking you. Things didn't end well between us."
He pauses. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"No, it's fine. I needed to get over it anyway."
He nods, getting up to leave.
"Just so you know," he says, "I really like you, too."

EspinasCada vez que me pongo a pensar en lo que hice me siento... mal. Mis manos empiezan a temblar, y mi mirada se nubla poco a poco. Supongo que es el efecto del remordimiento, o quizás es mi mente tratando de asustarme; son emociones fuertes que, incluso a esta edad, no puedo soportar. Siempre intenté mostrarme fuerte, pero no pude. Mi cuerpo era más que suficiente, eso sí, pero mis ganas de seguir luchando siempre disminuían, siempre eran destruidas por alguien cuyas inseguridades, odios e inestabilidad mental eran mayores. Siempre me molestó, pero no hice nada al respecto por... ¿veinte añ

And Then This Happened Correcting my pets can be very tiresome.
So I lean against the wall and observe everything going on around me on the deck. And although it probably appears that I’m zoning out, I’m actually watching and recording their every move in my mind with perfect clarity. I hear every scrape and feel every vibration from my robotic crew. Don’t let this fool you; there are times that I wish to just go inside and take a nap, and this is no exception. But, we’re out in the open and a ship transfer can become a very risky situation, if not observed and handled properly.
As I watch some of the fuel guards work with the ship and fi

EternityHe does it again every single Thursday.
In his mind he replays the look on the other man's face as he falls to his doom again and again and again and it hurts more than anything, but he just can't stop himself from doing it the next night. Because every time he dies, he wakes up again, and it's Thursday again. He gets a new chance.
He knows what's it's like to live out Thursday, to go on to Friday and then Saturday and Sunday. He knows what it's like to say goodbye to the other man forever.
He's only known the other man for one day, but he's relived that one day so many times.
He knows that the other man will stumble into him on the street, tripping on his own shoelaces, and he knows how the other man will curse as he picks up his papers and scrambles because he knows the other man is late for work already.
He knows that he will offer the other man a ride, and he knows the man will say yes.
And then, only once they are in the car, the other man will say, "My name is Thoma

FantasyThere was never
glory in this

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Shimmer

Every step taken hits like a tidal wave, every breath amplified makes your eyes water, every movement makes your skin crawl. Let us not mourn the dead, for they come for us in our sleep, they spread their shadow across your feet, tread softly, for they are spread beneath your feet.

You observe it all from the top, the bottom or the middle, the pain, the suffering, the death, you observe it all. It stalks like a predator, and we are running away from time, out of time, but it takes too much time, always too much...

It closes in, a shimmer, a glimpse, the flash before your eyes takes the form of the claw, and the following wound takes the for

The Translucent Form

~ Dedicated To Charlotte Kahn

You shimmer with mystery
Your eyes glaze with wonder
I wish i could figure you out
For just a little longer

You fade in and out
Your presence invisible
I wish i could figure you out
For your voice is unmissable

You lighten the mood
Your existance lightens the tone
I wish i could figure you out
For you always seem to be alone

Charlotte, you are the bowl of water
Which lies just out of reach

Charlotte, you are the key
Which just wont fit

Charlotte, you are the wave
Which wont touch the beach

Charlotte, to like a man
Isnt a crime, is it?

I Am Alive

~ Dedicated to Stacey Clarke

Oh sis

How you are the light
Within the dark

How you are the pure
Inside the unclean

How you are the antidote
Within the poison

How you are the love
Within me

Oh sis, you are my guide, my blindfold and my pathway

Oh sis, you are my sense, my spirit and my determination

Oh sis, you are my life, my support and my machine

How you are the hand
Which guides the spirit

How you are the flower
Which blooms in storm

How you are the blood
Which flows with passion

How you are lifes fabric
Which cannot be torn

Oh sis, you are my water, my air and my food

Oh sis, you are my feet, my vision and my touch

O

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The End Of The Line

by ~Dannius, Apr 13, 2004, 6:05:39 AM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Philosophy & Perspectives

Your soul steps up to the podium, rehearsing existence as it shifts, the crowds stood ahead, expecting something their ears cant hear, their hearts cannot relate to, their minds cannot adjust to. The end decides if the middle was worth the beginning, the things you fight for, the things we all fight for, the things that gives us each a reason to live:

Love
Truth
Justice
Feeling
Belonging

It hardly seems worth it, the human race destroys it, and you are part of a flock you cant break free of, part of a world you cant escape from. The human race is an errand boy for the higher, a virus, a survivor and a murderer. The images we create, the food we eat, the drink we consume, the lives we take, all illusions created by ourselves to protect us from the truth.

What is the truth, the truth is that there is no truth, why?, because we protect ourselves, saying truth is an illusion, believing that the key does not fit the lock, the passage does not lead to the end, the choice is not the right one. We become ruled and we fight, we become free and we struggle, united we fall, divided we stand.

How are we united? In celebration? of what, our existence, our perseverance, our sanity, our purpose, any and all of these are the answers to the puzzle. The puzzle grows as it becomes more complete, the human race adding to its own arsenal of destructive urges, adding to its own desperation to defeat those that it created, desperate to have a reason to believe in itself.

How do we believe? Belief is a simple word, it is the connection that the human race struggles to understand, and understanding is something the human race creates as an illusion, like all things, to keep busy, to keep existing, to keep the purpose.

If you have listened to a word I have said, and understand what I am talking about, then you have a purpose

The only question that remains is, did you create that understanding as an illusion?

United we fall, divided we stand

The End Of The Lineby ~Dannius

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Philosophy & Perspectives

The end of the line, and what the human race sees it as

~Alderman Feb 24, 2005 Hobbyist Photographer

the pic looks like brice looks nice

~Vila4480 Sep 26, 2004 Digital Artist

OH! LOLOLOL you were the artist that made that picture?

wow! i had it a long time ago as wallpaper i find it great!

never thought i could find the artist! hehe

congratulations!
i must say that before i started collecting pictures AND long time before i started creating...i had yours so...you gave me the inspiration\curiosity to explore this world

thnx
and thnx for your commments

~KonekoTwinBlade May 19, 2004

Kate loves this piece! It's so well written.. It really made her think! ^^

~KainSularei Apr 13, 2004

This is a really powerful piece. The 5 things; Love, Truth, Justice, Feeling and Belonging really are things that humans seem to strive for. Even moreso the last two. Though humans try to deal their own brand of justice, they do it as an extension of the need to belong, to seem like they fight for the justice of others. And belonging would be an extension of love, which humans seem to strive for even further.

I really like this piece, but sometimes the sentences run on a bit. It's really easy to create tangents on such a topic; everyone has a lot to say on their views of life. I understand what you were saying in the piece, but perhaps you want to take another review of it and tweak the flow a bit.

Otherwise, you sent the message across really well. I'm +faving this piece, because of the powerful message you sent. I think more people need to read this.

~newfoundlander66 Apr 13, 2004

awesome prose/poem piece, i love the "Your soul steps up to the podium" line, its a very strong, well thought out piece

~Exodus-2220 Apr 13, 2004 Writer

wow... this was powerful. Very good repition too. I loved it. Very good job. Why hasnt others commented on this piece?

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