TsundereQueenZephi Posted June 26, 2015 Share Posted June 26, 2015 (edited) I needed a little segment to post poetry/lyrics/etcetera online, as deviantArt is being....let us say a little argumentative with my laptop and its anti-virus software. So, until such disturbances are sorted I'll be posting some literary work, possibly the occasional RP profile (if I ever get around to it) Thoughts, opinions, criticisms are all appreciated, my lovelies. Possession. Trends and popularity fluctuates between the seasons, with each fashionista prepared to binge and purge as they follow the urge and continue their culture revolutionary charge. Whilst the pale and the sombre stay hidden and reside behind clothes doors or the final curtain call as blood, sweat and tears become the true fabrics used to usher a sparkling new accessory designed to die. Skeletons on walkways hang the rags from their bones, as designers profit from works from child workers in distant lands who live to work and work to survive, where to them survival never goes out of style. Where as online the people aruge between based gods and helixed lords, where premeditated words kill what trust that lies between friends of fandoms but between every second lost the screens flicker and gather dust as it's all just a cycle that we repeat, a road that we've all walked down before as the trends fade for the next spoke of the gear to settle and takes its place, what we end up fighting so desperately to own ends up owning us. Edited June 30, 2015 by Sophisticated Squirtle Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TsundereQueenZephi Posted June 30, 2015 Author Share Posted June 30, 2015 (edited) Hollow. The computer screen lights up the dark room's cover, a body lays behind it with its touch glued to the keyboard, eyes unable to disconnect from the digital heaven resting upon their fingertips. Dead - alive, unsure of how to feel as the addiction takes its toll, because if they try to leave they create a void but to stay they reside an anonymous statistic, a voice without a face, masked behind black pixels left to form words. The continuation of their extension creates the artificial persona used to create as a means to show themselves to users behind alternate screens that share the world wide web so that similarities shared holds friendship over neglect, but the exaggeration of an existential problem is what makes the body feel so numb, without the contact from the unattested users, a plethora of aliases used as a cloak to protect the acknowledged from revealing true identity. A name. An alias. An uncertainty. To call a friend without an identity leaves one to feel empty and hollow, but to call them a nobody is an insult to the memory and instances shared through the medium, so addictive. Names, alias, personas; all a reality, a truth behind screens that memories and feelings use to define relations given and received to multiple recipients and form a multitude where not even distance can stop friendship or love. Edited June 30, 2015 by Sophisticated Squirtle Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TsundereQueenZephi Posted July 11, 2015 Author Share Posted July 11, 2015 The thorns of a rose The petals of a rose brush against your fingertips the soft, velvet texture tingles wit ecstasy as it's beauty kisses you with only the briefest touch to leave its lasting embrace to be shared between the two of you. To look at it as a whole shows a thing of beauty and pain A thing of spectacular of colour with a painful body of thorns - to touch softly brings now danger but to squeeze brings pain to the both of you. To take the rose means death for the flower, cut it at the stem or rip it from the bush you end the cycle of life for said rose and for what? A present or a gift? The death of something beautiful brings happiness to another? The life of a rose can be linked to emotions - to look and feel is something of beauty but to squeeze such feelings are agony and to gift these feelings from person to another can either kill or break the heart, or flower into something natural and beautiful. The petals of a rose brush against your fingertips as a long winded thought finalizes in your mind, to let beauty and natures embrace take you or risk the danger and pain that it holds gives you enough reason to leave without temptation and leave the rose alone. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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