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Storybook WonderlandA strange Wonderland,
Comprised of the breaking reality.
What’s here is now,
A lonely child’s domain.
A sky a vibrant hue,
A bright world free of strife.
Something comprised with wonders alone,
By the enigmatic girl,
Stands here untouched.
A storybook land,
Her fascination birthing its existence.
The Cheshire girl,
Seeks the missing residents,
Of a storybook Wonderland.
“Madness and paradox,
Reality and dreamscape,
It collides in the borders,
Colliding with Fiction.
Here in Wonderland,
Will be a domain for two…
Maybe an endless amount!”
A lonely Cheshire’s madness,
Reigns ultimately here.
Anomaly or Paradox,
Fantasy and Reality,
It’s all the same now.
Like a fairytale,
Or a lucid dream…
“Would one even know,
If this is Reality,
Or a Dream?
One’d be aware.
Cheshire’s lost track,
Some Character TriviaOnia:
~The bizarre pronouncation of Onia's name does not match its spelling, often leading to other RPers calling her 'Onya' rather than the proper "O-Nye-Uh."
~In more personal works, I've developed of a habit of referring to her as the "Broken Alice" as a reference her mental state and the major influence of 'Alice' on her visual design.
~Onia's first outfit prior to the timeskip was slightly reminiscent to the Eastern 'Alice.'
~The second outfit is a more blatant reference and focused on the more widely-known concept.
~Onia is the first character that has actually developed so far that I am sometimes literally stumped in how to have her react to a situation.
~Though it doesn't look like it, Onia's mental state is still on the verge, but Onia is the type that doesn't like to burden others with her own despair.
~It's pretty much in collective agreement that if Zyntar or Otaryn were to die, Onia's mentality would entirely break, though the results following are unknown.
DreamerWhen I was very young,
I dreamed of distant lands.
My brother and I,
Made everything a game.
The boundaries of my mind,
Were limitless and holding open gates,
To vibrant new worlds.
I learned that reality was just as beautiful,
Though cruel as well,
And the crystal clear images piled further.
To endlessly convey those thoughts,
Through the power of my words,
Is the wish I’ve forever held,
Deep inside my heart.
I am a Dreamer,
The borders of Fantasy and Reality,
Gently meeting with bounded seams.
A vibrancy of sight,
A brightness of emotion,
And clarity born of strife and aspiration.
For Lucy: Apparition in the Gray RainThe world is bleak,
And colored only in
Stains of gray.
It wasn't this way before,
but without you,
All I can see is this bleak,
Our hearts had intertwined,
And our emotions were connected deeply.
I felt I could always be happy.
Though my world was always gray,
You had been the one to light it with vivid reflections of color.
The box in my pocket,
It's tiny, but it feels so heavy.
My tears won't cease their flow.
I had wanted to spend my life with you,
But you were gone before I could say anything.
Standing here in the rain,
The world looks as bleak as it ever has,
But at least it conceals my tears.
When I start to the house,
I swear I see something strangely familiar.
A figure of white,
But there is something warm in that familiar expression.
A soft reassurance,
From the one I thought I'd never see.
Our hands connect for the final time,
And we dance in this bleak, silver rain,
But to me, it's so bright,
Until you leave my side.
My tears are falling more than t
Requiem for a Fool's Dream and a Deluded Reality"Is this your indiscriminate justice? Your deluded judgement? Then it is a Fate I refuse to succumb to..."
The countless days that pass
Bare only images of blood and treachery.
I, who seeks only a sense of Peace,
Bends farther under the weight of each recurring tragedy,
Only baring a broken smile and standing once again.
For a world tainted by Hatred and Sadness,
I try to pave a path for Happiness and Peace.
Again and again, I break through the chains of the Pain and Treachery.
"Is it only I, whom is deluded?"
Stained by blood so thoroughly that my form is wracked with Pain,
I still refuse to fall and speak the countless words I want to reach...
Yet this world is too full of those who live only to be alive,
Too full of those who grip their ears and clench their eyes shut.
The few that open their eyes and listen,
Are the ones that are cleaved apart.
"Is this what one would call Reality?"
One by one,
The brave fall to ignorant masses that gather closer.
In the End,
It is only Fear and Ma
Colors of the SoulFloods of color spill around
Emanating with sadness and with joy
I find myself here today
Watching all the color fill the sky
Painting hearts with fleeting shades
Azure within our hearts for pain that we endure
Yellow in our hearts for the happiness that makes us shine
Just how far does it all extend?
That which creates beauty
Is the root of that which destroys it
That which brings our sadness
Is the same as that which gives us hope
And round-about are we
The people on this Earth
The colors that we etch within our hearts
That bleed within the sky
Are the reflection of our souls
That go unseen forevermore
Lost in Time
Lost Within the EveningThe tick-tock of the evening's natural clock
Seems to signal the end of something
As a foreboding sign
I, who held blindly to you
Knew nothing of the world around me
Before I even came to know it
I couldn't see anything at all except for the darkness
You, who was always by my side
Are no longer where I can see you
I can't grasp your hand at all
Or make out your silhouette
Tears and a faint singing voice
Mix together with tinges of fear
Now, I'll call out hopelessly for you
Whom I have lost somewhere behind
These few I have led with me
Their numbers dwindle as they're swallowed by death
Cries will not return them to my side
I must be brave now
I must be a Leader
Their tears and my own
Mingle and create an azure hue of sadness
But all that I can see
Are the distorted figures of red and black
That move now before my green eyes
Here alone, I must try to become an adult
Those who's lives are on my shoulders
Their numbers dwindle and heart only shatters more as they go
I, who lon
Another Writing MemeCongratulation! Your characters have won a free trip to this super special awesome place! There is no way this trip could go wrong... or is it?
- Pick 10 of your OCs in any order. If you don’t have 10 characters use canon or borrow your friends's charies, whatever!
- Don't look at the questions while picking the characters!
- Link back to the blank.
- Have fun!
PICK YOUR VIC... er, I mean WINNERS!
1. Karun Yunatsu
2. Lucy Winters
3. Ravare Udel
4. Rachelle Linet
1. First, , do you have any statements before depart?
Arzium: Where are we going?~
2. Rejoice! You guys will travel on this scary looking train! Cool isn't it? Does  have any problem with this choice of transportation?
Rose: Scary? It does not bother me at all....~Cants head~
3. We are about to start! But  and  delay the depart time by show up late together. What are their reasons?
Ako: I got lost~
Onia: I couldn't find her anyway..
TreasureThe sun seems bright today
And is dotting everything in gold
Here in the trees
I can feel a cool breeze sweeping by
As I close my eyes
I can see you all there...
My feelings of lonliness and sadness
Melt away and are carried away from me
Your arms holding me
Are warm and block out all the cold
I'm not scared anymore
Because you are here with me
Once again I understand
What love is
You all have taught me this
And so much more
I'll never be all alone again
Not with you here, my closest friends and family
I'm learning with all my might
So that one day
I will be strong like you all have taught me
Things once fleeting
That now burn within my heart
That is my treasure
That I'll always hold close
DollBarbie’s thighs were not meant to touch;
her hair is devoid of split ends
and there's this deadness in her eyes,
impossible to mimic—a quiet crawlspace without light.
There's a pastel pale to her skin,
hairless and unblemished,
a blank un-crevice between her legs
and her rouge-stained lips are ever smiling.
She is nothing like you, child.
But do not forget
that she borrows your voice.
Jack FrostOh, how lovely it is,
To peer out a window from the cozy warmth of your home
And see the whole outdoors kissed in crystalline brilliance!
As snow and ice decorate the earth
It's still amazing to think that,
With a single giant and chilling breath,
Jack Frost turns an everyday world into a sparkling,
Floored PetalsHe drowned the cheap motel room
in smoke, back in ‘53,
when I was just a bud of seventeen
who had watched herself bloom
in the mirror in her mother’s closet.
I had seen the bloom and the bud
and had wished to be deflowered.
So I had leashed myself
onto the back of a bus
and roared into New York City
like the little dragonfly I am,
falling into deep dreams
on the laps of strange men.
A pale girl with a patched-up suitcase
off on an adventure in the city
with nothing but a few dollars
and a fear of the dark.
The hotels were musty
and the dollars digested,
but the lights lowered
as the jazz flew upward
into a shower of sparks,
and I, a flower shaking off her petals
as she swung into his arms
and into his life.
A life of roads and roaring,
and sitting half-still in the smoke
as he mused long into the night
and down the drain, saying,
“Poetry is daydreaming on paper,”
wiping his grey lips on discarded poems, and
crashing between the waves of sheets.
A life of racing
The tragedy of the mook and how it died one dayThe fickle sky presses
Against the glass of the windows
And the dry strung up heat of the winter sun
Spilled over the anemic asphalt
Our shadows seared into the bottom of our sneakers
Moving with a sort of blithe nonchalance
Searching for the speckled grey of a familiar horizon
The apathetic footsteps and my clenched hands
Quiver beneath the setting sun’s bloody smear
Across the over populated sky
That was no longer clear
Rather it was the looking glass phenomena
Spread eagled across my retinas
And during those grief stricken days spent
Hanging off your rooftops and skylines
I've contemplated replacing
my heart with another
Liver so I can
Drink more and care less
And I can vow that sleeping is only
For the dead or at least
The heavily medicated and sadly
I can no longer tell the difference between
the King and his moon.i.
this is an ode
to the King. We
watched him blow
away like an ocean
of black feathers,
and our Father muttered
that he was
forgiven, always, truly
forgiven. But we
all know that
nothing gold can
stay-- he had to
go. It was written.
that was when the
Queen cut her hair. Again,
we watched it fall to
her chamber floor
in heaps of strung
gold. But we already
knew that it would have
to go. We already
knew that she
would go, for it
was written, and it
was already forgiven.
the Prince grew up
with the memory of
black shoes and hair
littering the halls of
an empty palace. The
Queen was busy, always
busy, and then she was sick--
and then the Prince put on
his black robes for her, even
though he always remembered
her in shaded of red.
on his father's throne,
the boy-king realized that
this was the place
that swallowed up his love,
and it gave way to war.
You know what they
say-- "A heartbrok
Winter's SnowThe snowfall brings joy, fun to children, and allure to the world
Although, many dislike it
It's too bitter, makes them ill,
Or is a bother before they go out and take leave their comfy warm abodes
But it's soft powdery white scenery brings out so much hope to others
The twinkle and sparkle within it
The happiness it will always have and will bring
Snowmen and snow angels everywhere,
Snowballs in the sky,
Icicles on the edges of roofs, wires, and tree branches,
Intricate and fern-like designs dancing upon window panes
People see it as a winter wonderland
Especially when it first falls
The world never knows though
That I bring them this kind blessing, this satisfaction, this wonder
Yeah me, Jack Frost
The one who people say I nip at the nose and toes
Well I'm very grateful for those who do believe in me
And I will keep coming once a year for a few months and grant your wishes.
spun out so far, i can't be true to you.he's still the way i watch the stars
and how i run like no one's watching
he's what i dream of when i'm awake
but maybe i'm done waiting
maybe it's you
maybe it's me this time
and maybe that's enough
he still races through my veins
and no, my heart is not steady when i see him
but i was never one for patience
a year is too long to hold on
and he is conservative
and button downs
he is beautiful
but i am wild
i am dirty feet
and summer evenings
i am mud-caked nails
and cider throats
i am sun soaked
laced with drunken poetry
i am watercolour
he is oil based
he is canvas in london galleries
i am doodles on napkins in mediterranean restuarants
you are cheekbones and dark eyes
coffee stained fingers
smirks and accidental brushes
i don't intend to know anything more
he is confidence
i am uncertainty
i live in the wind and the forests
we both spend too much time in front of mirrors
but whilst he kisses them
i crack them
and all the while he is leather
Not That DifferentA writer sat down beside an artist,
Notebook and pencil in his hands.
The artists’ curiosity lead him,
To stop his sketch and take a glance.
And so the young artist asked the writer,
“Is there any chance that I could look?
Because I need words to paint a picture,
Could I look inside your notebook?
The words you have written on the pages,
Are the inspiration I need.
My hands itch to draw the scenes your mind made,
A poem, or story I plead."
The writer only laughed at the artist,
And then he simply shook his head.
“An Artist was what I used as my muse,”
Was what the old writer then said.
"Today I’ve learned something I won’t forget
I need your work and you need mine.
The threads of our works, they are intertwined
What a pretty thought and clear sign."
They looked and smiled as they swapped their works,
Flipping through pages both called art.
The only difference that separates them,
Are titles that keep them apart.
Dark WorldSo much crowd in here;
Everybody passes by;
Giving no sign;
And neglecting all
I’m creeped out in here;
My brain tries to scream loud;
But my heart is so weak to handle it
This dark place;
Even with thousands;
I can see no one in front
This cruel world;
Compels me to do this;
Not affecting anyone, just me
Some give sympathy;
For what I do;
But it doesn't matter much
This shadow of those;
Cover-up the emotions of all;
Leaving behind cruelty
And making this world hard to believe.
War ZoneThe bright flashes overwhelm.
Ash scatters like wind.
I walk a path so paved with dark.
Though I take my beloved's hand,
There's no telling when I'll depart.
A Life of hiding long ago ended.
A Life of fighting has already begun.
Licks against the sky.
Blue is brought to Black,
And Peace is burned to Wrath.
I feel no Fear,
And seek only an End.
I won't involve those I love.
I wish them the least of danger.
My return is my Promise,
Despite all risks.
This Life is one,
I wish to return to.
This War will end one day.
I know this.
Ash black clouds will signal the end.
Victory will only be signaled by our return.
The chimes of those voices that I know as those I love,
Echo back a hundred times.
It's like a calling of what I've come to know.
Bright flashes overwhelm.
Ash scatters like the wind.
When Black is brought to Blue,
And Wrath is lightened to Peace,
I Promise I'll still stand.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More