They dance in a cyclone of violet;
the petals rip off their antlers
and slide from the swift motion.
The dancers move as if on a breeze
that carries the clatter of hooves and antlers.
It is silent, hot as the sirocco
and cool as the wind that carries the aurora
in the flash of the startled butterflies.
The flowers fall around them, but are lifted up
as they rear, swayed by the motion of their bodies.
Their antlers rise, their heads lower --
Somehow, they scratch the heavens and the earth
and bring to them the scent of falling flowers.
((This has been an oddly intro-less visit to Seed's Poetry Corner. Collect them all!))
Name: Perc
Gender: Male
Personality: Outgoing, loves to play fight, hates it when he doesn't get his way
Likes: Antlers, fighting
dislikes: being very polite, walking
history: He was born very close to the playground.His mother loved him dearly but he was too much of a hassle.He left his mother one day as he thought she was too mean (she had a short temper), he raced around and met many deer.
There is no time for tears
As she watches the forest scenary pass by
Hooves pound furiously
Against the ground
Hearts of both woman and beast
Are racing
She dares not look back
Least her mind listens to heart
And she would stay
However its to late
By now they will have discovered
That she has escaped
She hangs her head
As she imagines his reaction
Heartbroken
But she was never ment to live in a palace
To be caged
And put on display
Like a pretty bird for showcase
Made to sing
Whenever pleasing to the captor
She realeases a ragged breath
As she remembers his eyes
And his calming voice
She grasps the reigns tighter
Trying to push those thoughts away
They would only slow her down
But as she comes to the top of a hill
She gently reigns in her steed
And slowly looks back
The view is of the palace
And a tear slowly escapes
Before she turns her head
And nudges the horse
To press on
But is this the true wish
Of Ravena's heart?
A quick thing about a new deer of mine called Wish!
A man made clay from graveyard soil and bones form a graveyard his young victims lay. For when he hered children at play, past the day, he found fear and now the slowly decay. That man took that clay and made a fawn and gave that fawn his soul.
Wishes on stars to far I fear,
Nightmares in daylight seens the darkness dosent care,
Candles in the night are your only friend,
Sickenling cold till the end,
As reality it dose bend,
As I travel to that place bettween dreaming and me,
Where no walls spread out,
the world its silver and gray,
No sunlight,
No day,
As I say goodbye to the monsters in my bed,
Oh those children in my head,
as they sing of faeries,
And secret things,
I say hello to the night,
And goodbye to the day,
Oh the candle light helps me see this way,
The night and me we one of a kind,
So please young spirits release my mind,
All the shadows in these woods,
And the windows to the deep,
Oh please blue spirit let me sleep!
..that is my WISH
[=#006400]
"My wife." That was the phrase I thought. It repeats quietly weighing its expectations up against my own mind. It feels pressing like a lead weight. Like love, it halts my breath. And I thought it.
I had met up with Nevilly -- she was miniaturized today. It suited her. She looked so delicate, like a butterfly made of glass with wings as thin as the horizon. She greeted me, and she and (I assume) a friend of hers and I sat down. He sadly took the best place by her side, and I went to sit next to her in the tree she was under. As the third party got up and said his goodbyes, I thought, "Well, at least now I can sit by my wife without being in a tree to do it." And then it occured to me what words had just run through my head. I didn't say "my lover," or "my sweetheart," "my little snowblossom," or "my dear leman." I went through all the words I could have said in my head: paramour, mate, girlfriend...No, I had thought wife.
Should I be thinking 'wife'? It's not an institution not common in the forest...but I think it does still have meaning. I love Nevilly, I always will now... but this is...scary. It's huge. It means things I'm not sure I know how define -- and this, more than love, may change the basic shape of my life.
And if I'm wrong...Would I even know it? I could destroy what we have by putting too much pressure on it, or her feelings could die (I sometimes don't know why she loves someone like me in the first place) -- and there would be no honorable way out that wouldn't be so exposed, so clean, so ragged like a great red wound. I'd never have the courage for it again. It may be better to keep things simple. The list goes on forever...
The scales teeter uneasily, even as we talk about old nightmares and deep memories. Even as we lie together and fall asleep wrapped around one another...On one side, all these objections, my uncertainty, the weakness of my heart, the abuses of time. On the other...is her smile.
Yay! Im newbie for a month, and I'm still learning commands. Its hard to be newbie because you dont know anyone, and anyone will be with you. AND the fun will come when I grow up.
Anyway, I'm excited with this game! I'll post my feelings about it in this diary haha!
And oh, time to grow starts counting as soon as you register, right?
Well, dont care *no, i do care lol* sorry for my *very* bad and poor english!
Whisper:
NOT IN FOREST!!
Mood:
Cheering up a bit after quick meeting with Chopin
Thoughts:
Now im so lonely...
Where:
Wandering around playing with fawns
Love:
Chopin....!
Notes:
He's lonely and wants to just be with people
Bio: http://endlessforest.org/community/whisper039s-biography
Whish:
IN FOREST
Mood:
Cheerfull
Thoughts:
So whats your whish?
Where:
Stiaring out at the pound
Love:
Feels it isnt his place to love
Notes:
Blank
Bio:
not done yet
