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A C Leuavacant Aug 2014
A Scream came from up above
From the bell tower
It was so piercing
In my ears
Ouch
Oh no
Not my ears  

I was then required to rise from my nest
stare out the window
And watch in a mannerly fashion as a dark swooping fire engulfed
The bell tower
Oh no
I thought
Not the Bell tower
That is definitely not a good place
For fire to be
No
Not at all

Maybe I should help
To remove the fire
from the bell tower
Yes
That would be
Very helpful indeed
I would be a hero
Oh yes
That would be very nice
But I decided
That I would take the moral high ground
And went back to sleep
Just a little something odd
Invocation Aug 2014
Little soul - are you satisfied?
She's crying over him,
He's leaving because of her,
  You're trying to keep him here,
    And he's struggling to breathe and nobody likes to face the truth
And I should have answered the call
and I should have
Little soul little soul you're going too far
He isn't yours to sweep into the pond

Your eyes cannot see into the correct situation's panacea
evening glow, oh! so pure and whole
aeration of the dust-packed pores inside
Little soul, Little soul - no.
Don't go there
Don't wander into -
LITTLE SOUL!
I saw you open the package before the allotted date
styropeanuts, strewn cross't wooden paneled flooring
white infinity symbols, floating in rusty red blood
I told you the truth would set you free
And I warned you what it would do
Little soul.
Little soul.
Good riddance to what little innocence remained after the last battle
All survivors have fled
The city remains, rubble standing as relatively tall
as mountains feel
There was a girl
who got
presents
every single day
from admirers
young and
old, from close
and distant

she never thanked
them, and never
opened them
she’d pile the gifts
up
outside, in her
garden

whenever she was
feeling down
she’d climb up
on top
and enjoy
how all other people
looked like ants
from up there

one day
she got a present
from her true love
it was an
empty box
so big
that her tower finally
reached somewhere
with no oxygen
for her to
breathe
Justin S Wampler May 2014
I have no...
(self-boundaries)
...means of changing.

It's not my fault, I...
(place blame)
...didn't mean to lie.

Why should I try, I will...
(believe in nothing)
...eventually die.

All the underground people...
(your ancestors and mine)


...Do they remember
Being alive?
H W Erellson May 2014
Tell us more, Old one-eye,
Spiller of darkness
Bringer of hope,
Builder of men.

What could I tell you,
Young and agile,
Dark dreams and light smiles

About the pits
So deep
We lost their names

Or the towers
That rose so high
We forgot about them

Or the fire
Intensely hot;
We forgot how to feel the cold,

How to embrace the night
And the morning.

There are tales of stars of battles
And heroes of blood.

There are no tales of makers of stone,
Iron and wood.
You are all those things, youths.
You are the knot in the rope,
The hand that tied it,

And the mind that knew how.
If I was a Princess,
Locked high in a tower, counting that stars in the sky,

Would you be my Brave Knight and rescue me?

If I was a Beautiful Mermaid
And I was captured by pirates, soon to be a prisoner to man forever,

Would you help me plan my escape?

If I was cursed
By the darkest of witches to be a hideous beast for my life,

Would you help me find my cure?

If I was lost and alone,
Surrounded by a shadowed forest and howling creatures,

Would you come and guide me to safety?

If I needed you, where would you be?

— The End —