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Bragi 12h
In the sea
There is a tree
It’s roots they stretch a thousand leagues
It’s branches reach up oh so high
They go so far as to touch the sky

The tree was said never to be named.
For centuries, deliberately some would say,
it kept all people in the world at bay
But the gods had promised there to be a day
The most deserving of children would find a way
And climb the tree to find treasures array
..if only one monster the youth could slay.

In a sadly lit room a little girl cried.
The ring she had given her before she had died
was all that was left of the happy past life
Her mother had spent with her there by her side.
Her mother long gone and the ring not in sight,
The little girl wailed but would sneak out that night.

She knew where it was, her cruel aunt had thrown it;
‘Come now’ she said ‘I think you’ve outgrown this’.
It fell at a place where all were forbid,
under sea waves was where it now hid.

She found the place
She made no mistake.
Before jumping in the little girl braced
A rush of water had hit her face
A brand new feeling she had to intake
But the water now returned a warming embrace.
It helped the girl and showed her the way.

She must have been swimming for more than nine hours
Her legs were so tired, but she was no coward.
She could see shapes ahead, she screamed and she shouted
But no one replied, no alarm had been sounded.
So the little girl swam... and soon she was grounded.

The shapes were giant roots, bigger than buildings
Huge, unbelievable, bewildering, tall things
Then she realised, on one was she standing
And when she looked up, she noticed she was climbing.
At the top, she knew, she felt a strange feeling,
The ring would be there, she could see it, waiting.

She reached the top
Her heart had stopped
A golden garden with birdsong, soft.
The gardens heart held a door, locked.
But the way to the key appeared to be blocked.
Blocked by a horrible, familiar aunt.

The aunt ran at the girl, in big scary strides
But the girl was not afraid, no more would she hide.
She stood on the edge, her heart as her guide.
And waited for the moment they both would collide...

Off the edge they fell
The girl said ‘farewell,
To my mum where all is well’.
She closed her eyes as the demon aunt yelled.
At then at that moment her mum’s voice broke the spell
‘One more push to be happy, one more my big girl’.

She opened her eyes and felt the wind rush
She kicked off the aunt with one final push.
The girl only just missed one of the trees roots.
The monster was slain, you could hear the yells hush.
The girl landed safely in the waters warm touch.
And now a small key in her hands did she clutch.

She climbed once more
And unlocked the door
Where beyond was lain the most wonderous of hordes
Treasures beyond what all life has explored.
But the little girl walk on so swiftly past it all
Until she had found what her heart was there looking for.

The Gods came down and congratulated her
‘But you must take more! It is what you have earned!
You completed this feat, you should take what’s deserved!’
But the girl just smiled and with this thank you she turned

I just want the ring
And memories to keep
Of my mother always.
To help me to sleep.
You Gods are kind
But my mother you can’t give
So let me go home with this most precious of gifts.

And with that
the girl found herself back
In a dimly lit room with a ring in her hand.
But in the morning when she got up to stand
She found herself smiling at a rather strange sound.
It wasn’t her aunt yelling, or screaming a demand,
But asking if she liked yolks runny
or if she preferred them when hard...
I tend to give people
their own story
in my stories
I give some halos
and others horns
for
the truth
seems too
*sboer*
for me
sober is meant to be (un)sober
shuffled
There’s a lonely light left on,
In the farthest corner of forgotten space.
Where dreams come true,
And hopes shine through,
A beautiful stained glass face.

A face with friends and a family,
Filled with heartwarming smiles and tears.
With stained brown eyes,
And lips metal tied,
Unable to share the stories it hears.

There’s a lonely light left on,
Illuminating all invisible forgotten space.
Shining through the pain,
the stained glass window pane,
Sharing stories in a way you cannot hear.
Enjoy, or don’t —I don’t care. This is the 8th version of this poem I’ve been trying to write. This is best version so far but it can always change and get better. Stay awesome!
I set about to write a sad, sad story,
a tale to tear the hardest hearts of men;
but as I looked about for inspiration -
reaching here, prying there,
and rummaging through
all the wrinkled sorrows that have been -
I saw here and there a twinkle
throwing back my candle's light.

At first I wondered at this
and wandered toward those stars,
for what did light refracted have to tell
about our scars?
But as I bent to listen to the whispers of that dream,
I saw my dim reflection in a
shattered glassy gleam.

Mirror broken on the floor,
am I truly the most sorrowful
of all?
Bragi 1d
Don’t go
I said
When I should have left.

Don’t leave me
I begged
I wished I’d run instead.

We can make this work
I pleaded
But for too long was I bleeding.

One more chance
I asked
But it was air I could breathe at last.

You are my everything
I thought
But to you that meant naught.

Take me back
I mumbled
Pathetic in desperation, I stumbled.

Why are you doing this?
I cried
When you said I had to know why.

You don’t want me.
I froze.
...to an end that ended all of my woes.
Bragi 1d
2018 - I see you smiling at me while we’re watching a play. I get this feeling I’ll never know your name.
1918 - Returning home from war to find you with another man. A story in a story, a sadness in the sad...
1818 - Now I’m a Frankenstein tormented by a monster.
1718 - I arrive in a New Orleans where soon I forgot her.
1618 - The execution of one of the greatest explorers makes my heart afraid to find a new lover.
1518 - I’m in Italy now admiring a Michelangelo, passions are burning and you’re my new antidote.
1418 - In Florence there’s talks of a new cathedral, competition in design yet to you there’s no equal.
1318 - From the English the Scottish fight for independence but I would sell my soul just to be in her presence.
1218 - From Acre I leave for Egypt, a crusade of the soul, but I gave that to you not too long ago.
1118 - A new pope on the throne holding a king like he’s owned but you’re a free spirit and your name... I won’t know...
Heera 1d
'What are you reading?'
He asked me, very casually. I assured myself that this time i won't fall for his plans or innocence, whichever was true.

'Are you gonna just stare at me like that or explain?'
He questioned and i could see the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk.

'its just a story about two people: Satyavan and Savitri.'
I plainly added

'and'

There..all the walls, i was trying to build, breaking down at that one word.
Maybe because he seemed like he was living his childhood now, the one he made me believe he never had.

'And, that she was a girl who fought with death to bring her husband back, even against ***'s will' i shorten up the story into a small blurb for him

'hmmm'

I was bracing myself for the questionnaire that was about to begin. For most of the time, I would compare his curiosity with the child, i probably will never have.
And he would exactly pretend like my kid, annoying me yet agreeing whenever he felt, i was right.

'But if she wins her husband back, doesn't it make *** a liar?'

'here we go again' i murmured

'Did you say something?' his smirk became apparent now.
With all these days, one thing was for sure, he loved annoying the **** out of me.

'nothing. Want to listen to the story or no?'

He nods

'So, the story...' I began..

'Hear'

'what?'

'i want to hear the story! Not listen' his child like laughter and bubbly personality was around the corner,
Sometimes even i would be surprised whether or not, this was the guy who looked so serious most of the time.

But that comment had me ******* then,
'you know what! Just google it.'

'Hey...' he whispers
'but i want to hear it from you. Complete the story'
He says that with special emphasis on 'hear'
But this time, i wasn't mad.
This time i was smiling because there were times when i would push down a story into his head, so he would ***** up for a minute
But things had changed, he wanted me to talk.
He wanted to listen,
Just like the kid,
Who first refuses but then slowly goes on to accept the bicycle without, the training wheels.
Just a story. I realised probably people won't even read it but i wanted to post anyway.
Renhui 2d
He was a good emperor
He ruled his kingdom with reason and law
His inner palace
Was however a house of horror
Hundreds of concubines
Suffered abuse and torture
And loss of their sons
He let his **** dictate the order
And inversely became a murderer
Of some of his women and sons

Hundreds of lives
Depended on one man's ****
For survival, power and love
Even if the emperor's nights
were equally divided among the concubines
They would have to wait for several years
To get one night

They lived in a walled up complex
Where they did not have
the right to get out
And where hundreds of castrated men
Wandered around some serving you
With their damaged bodies and twisted minds

Then came this Wei Girl
She was young and born of a low class
She was however like a kungfu master
Breathed in strategies, war and triumph
and nick named love
She was the only one
With her own voice and self

First many fellow weavers
Fell under her spell
Then the empress
Became her sister and protector
Finally the all powerful lustful emperor
Could not but want all of her

When the emperor fell for her
He fell hard
He wanted to **** her
For disobeying
He wanted to **** her
For not wanting him
He wanted to exile her
For not stopping to fight
   even when degraded to a prison laborer

Then mysteriously he fell in love
With her ingenious and convincing ways
Her naturally self centered but innocent actions
Her strength in handling everyone in the palace
All other women lost their luster
and with eunuchs turned into the dust of her battles
He wanted only her
Wanted only to be with her

She ate at the same table with him
She acted as if she were the empress
and talked almost like his equal
That no one else dared
Since then they lived
As  husband and wife
Until
Their son became the next emperor
Inspired by the TV history series Story of Yuanxi Palace
Once upon a time in a land far away
There lived a little boy beaten night and day

Once in a land, there was a little girl
Frozen by fears till he came

Once there was the two who lived
There they destroyed till they showed

Tears were left behind
only those with fear shall cry
but in them! there were none.

Gods were never fair
the future changed
and the tears came back

Do they really believe? Do you?

a choice was made
**** the Sinners
Destroy the Destroyer.
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