ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature
Rain
She was bloated, swollen in her
Own melancholy moisture
Threadbare at her contours
Unravelled into gray woolen
Strings, too loose for her skin
And they drained off her shoulders
To pool in a waxy heap by her
Ivory heel-bones.
She was rounded by opaque
Moons, liquid apricity. The life
In her womb churned, awakening
From quiescence. Her being
Shuddered from the maelstrom within
And in a great wailing cry of woe
Her waters burst in a ferocious
Deluge, catharsis.
She roiled under each contraction
As unearthly poetry thundered from her
Throat, emblazoned with lightning. Her
Child is birthed, swaddled in her failing
Body, decrescendo heart
Literature
Beast
I dream of wolves every night.
There are times when I simply watch them race through cold, shrouded forests. When I stretch out a trembling hand and silently beg one of them to place their muzzle against my fingers so that I may feel true strength with my own skin. When my heart pounds louder than a summer storm as they sprint together in one pack, their breaths stirring together in savage harmony. When I long to run alongside them, my soul more free than I could ever possibly imagine.
And then there are times where I am one of them. I can taste the crisp moonlight on my tongue as my paws kick up half-frozen mud; I can smell the fervor of t
Literature
the thing that makes poets intoxicating
I realise now that I was always surrounded by books.
They were silent ghosts and poltergeists
that both sat and called for me
to be near them.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Mature
© 2014 - 2024 Augmented4th
Comments5
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I read this before GDeyke's piece, and I'm quite glad I did. Presenting the story as a set of simple rules does wonders to set the scene, but doesn't give enough information to "spoil" the original story--particularly since the Archbishop could have ulterior motives for giving these instructions.