|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
A Tale Of A Weary ConscienceWhen foul words are spoken
Conscience grows weary
And she lets something else take control
Mumbling but a few warnings to Rage
Rage would kill without a second thought
She likes it. The taste of blood.
Pools of her enemies' life force
What she craves
But she has no control
Screams and sobs leak from her lips
God knows why
Animal sounds. Rage is a monster
Rage is power and rage is vunerabilty.
she doesn't see how naked she is.
And after all the damage is done
Guilt comes to clean up the mess
For what remorse is there for Rage to feel?
She has done her job. Almost
Not quite the kill, but the fear in his heart
Not to mention the fear in hers
Guilt will never understand the actions of her sister
It drives her insane. She knaws at her nails.
Guilt is a lunatic. Watch out. She bites.
The Damage You Had Done 2A week had passed since our first encounter with Zane. And life was to get stranger yet.
Counselling room 42, I read from beside the door. 42 counselling rooms?
"It's a pretty messed up city." Said Zane, answering my unspoken question. God, that was annoying. He grinned. He grinned far too much for my liking.
Suddenly the smile fell from his face.
"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned. Zane had stumbled backwards and was now leaning against the wall, head in hands. He was shaking his head slowly and making visible efforts to right himself. I was shocked to see tears in his eyes.
"Are you guys okay?" came Lola's wavering voice, just as I was about to repeat my own question, her sightless eyes overflowing with worry.
Zane swallowed and regained his composure. I could see that he was a little unsteady but he tried to hide it.
"No need to worry," Zane said, attempting a reassuring smile which came out as a sort of pained grimace, "I'm perfectly fine."
"Really?" asked Lola, total
Rhonwen Ackerley 6Much to my distaste we were travelling on the train.
"So this Zach kid... old friend - anyone special?" I asked in a desperate bid to get a conversation out of my companion.
"What do you mean 'special'?" A question. But I asked a question! Oh well.
"How close were you guys?"
"We were friends." The girl still looked confused, I decided to drop it. Rhonwen seemed to have a different idea.
"We were both pretty weird kids, you'll have to understand that. Neither of us had many friends. Our friendship was almost forced upon us. But it endured."
I nodded politely, trying to ignore the sweaty commuter in the adjacent seat.
"People thought we were a couple. I suppose you did too," she continued. I held in my sarcastic "No really?"."There's no denying we were close - but I've never been the sort for relationships. I mean, can you imagine it? I'd be the world's worst girlfriend" She laughed
"Oh don't say that!"
"Mia, that's very nice of you to say but we both know how horrible you find living wi
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More