A springbok runs on an open plain, her steadfast hooves kicking up dirt and sand with each step. She had her eyes on something...a prize, a treasure, a gift...
The heavy sunlight would not stop her, nor would strong winds, crawling creatures on the ground, predators, or death itself. Nothing would stop her from the thing she wanted most.
With every step, she was closer. With every step, she grew happier.
And then she slid to a halt before her prize.
The male springbok tilted his head at her.
And she nervously spoke, "H-hi...", smiling sweetly to her prize, the one thing she wanted most.
There was a little door here.
It's gone now.
A little lamb sleeps in the dip which once housed it.
She is a thousand shades of melancholy.
Two simple shades of violet.
And a single shade of mirror.
The wind blows.
She is scattered like dandelion wishes.
A vast open field in the middle of nowhere. No trees around, just tall grass. The grass is a vibrant green and waves back and forth with the wind. The sky is partly cloudy, the fluffy white clouds drifting slowly. There are no obstructions for miles.
In the distance, a lone deer approaches, his antlers the only thing that seems to rise up over the grass. He finds a place that seems favorable, and digging into the dirt, he drops an acorn he carried this far. He covered the seed and raised his head to the sky.
A cloud approached, much darker than all the rest. He waited and watched, and when it came overhead, it began to rain upon the plain. He closed his eyes and held steadfast, the rain cooling him, penetrating into the ground for the acorn.
And after, the sun returned, and the deer lowered his head to watch the birth of a tree. It didn't take long - a single sapling rose and grew, rising up before him and spreading out it's glorious branches. The tree stretched toward the sun, and shimmering dark green leaves grew from it's limbs.
When it finally ceased to grow, the tree covered a vast area of the plain with shade. The stag, smiling at his achievement, approached and sat underneath the tree, drifting to sleep from his long journey.
A spark of inspiration can grow into a work of art, all that is needed is the right environment and the right conditions.
the fawnlet asked of innocence, but this vast hell knows no mercy
it takes without care or remorse, and the infantile glob like thing is dragged from its silent slumber.
ripping away from all that is warm, and carefree. where one does not need to breathe, or even think. there is no thought when you are there. but then you are hurled from this sanctuary. and the fawnlet screams, it wants to return there... to the place... it can't remember anymore. the fawnlet asks a final question... 'why have you taken me from my mother?'
Michael pours himself like a rainstorm of leaves onto the ground. He has yellow grass for fur and booming stones and trees for bones. When he laughs, it is a silent, lime-green sound. He laughs in frogs and the moss on the rocks, in the taste of cold water against cool stone.
Auriea spreads herself through the teal wing of the sky like the sound of crows. She nuzzles the earth with the nose of the wind, and hangs in poppies as soft as red chruchbells. Her voice is the parting of a dove's beak, is the velvety shell of a fawn's ear, is the sound of everything growing.
The white stone on the Hill is warm with sunlight.
On a clear, comfortable night, step out side for just a moment.
Look up to the stars above. Even with light pollution you should at least be able to see one bright one.
Pick out a star. Any star at all. Find one you find particularly pretty or interesting. It can be a bright star or a dull star.
Now...stare at it for a few moments, and understand what the star truly is.
A star as a giant mass of atoms churning and spewing out. It is so hot that inside the center it creates elements - hydrogen to helium, helium to beryllium, beryllium to lithium, and so on...until the star fuses iron. When the right conditions are met, the core becomes unstable and the star becomes extremely hot and eventually explodes ("supernova"). It produces many of the elements past Iron on the periodic table, including Zinc, Copper, Silver, and Gold...many elements that are impossible to create without the intense heat and pressure from the supernova. These elements literally traveled across the galaxy, and by chance were sucked up into what forms the Earth now.
Look at that star for a moment. Remember that you are made of elements as well. Oxygen, Carbon, Nitrogen, Hydrogen, Potassium, Phosphorus, Copper, Zinc, Selenium, Molybdenum, Fluorine, Chlorine, Iodine, Manganese, Cobalt, Iron, Lithium, Strontium, Aluminum, Silicon, Lead, Vanadium...
once in a while,
she walks along that path.
she wonders,
'have we drifted?'
she closes her eyes; deep, rich, and always full of wonder.
'old friend... answer my question.'
the wind blows; the sounds of leaves rustling and grass swaying reaches her acute ears.
a smile.
On an old forgotten battlefield, a doe grazed, walking past guns and bullets, banners and skeletons. She ate her fill of the grass sweetened with the taste of blood and war.
Soon after, many other deer came and grazed here, following the doe's example. They walked past the old uniforms and rifles, past ammunition and supplies, only stopping to eat the grass and to look around at what seemed like a peaceful environment.
The deer looked to one another, forgetting who they were in their previous life.
Soldiers on both sides of the war who had died on this battlefield.
The cloud drifted by
Slow but determined
I watched it's globular form
I wondered where it came from
And why it made such a strange shape
And then I began to dream about being a cloud
And drifting by in the sky looking down at the beautiful land
But then I would miss my home, and I would begin to
C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C
R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R *
Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y
C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C
R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R *
Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y
C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C
R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R *
Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y
And then I was back on the ground, and looking up, I saw a cloud drift by.
At the end of night A dark
A dark dawn simmers
Blood red light breaks above black horizons
The warning of blood spilled
A dreamer wakens
Dreams gone from memories
None remembered
The night has gone in the blink of an eye
A cold ice melts
The warm light turns it to water
Their hearts are the same
As they looked skyward.
as openly as it could, a
a broken wing could not fly
and so it stays here
a fool that even i cannot control..
this thread is lovely check
check my awesome haiku skills
oh-so talented
A springbok runs on an open
The heavy sunlight would not stop her, nor would strong winds, crawling creatures on the ground, predators, or death itself. Nothing would stop her from the thing she wanted most.
With every step, she was closer. With every step, she grew happier.
And then she slid to a halt before her prize.
The male springbok tilted his head at her.
And she nervously spoke, "H-hi...", smiling sweetly to her prize, the one thing she wanted most.
Him.
shade is like liquid seeping
seeping up from these strange trees
the earth is asleep
Tracking} [Edit:] An evil
[Edit:]
An evil smirk from the shadows.
A glimpse of light in the far.
It's death again.
Playing a game.
He wants you to come.
There was a little door
It's gone now.
A little lamb sleeps in the dip which once housed it.
She is a thousand shades of melancholy.
Two simple shades of violet.
And a single shade of mirror.
The wind blows.
She is scattered like dandelion wishes.
these are all spectacular.
A vast open field in the
In the distance, a lone deer approaches, his antlers the only thing that seems to rise up over the grass. He finds a place that seems favorable, and digging into the dirt, he drops an acorn he carried this far. He covered the seed and raised his head to the sky.
A cloud approached, much darker than all the rest. He waited and watched, and when it came overhead, it began to rain upon the plain. He closed his eyes and held steadfast, the rain cooling him, penetrating into the ground for the acorn.
And after, the sun returned, and the deer lowered his head to watch the birth of a tree. It didn't take long - a single sapling rose and grew, rising up before him and spreading out it's glorious branches. The tree stretched toward the sun, and shimmering dark green leaves grew from it's limbs.
When it finally ceased to grow, the tree covered a vast area of the plain with shade. The stag, smiling at his achievement, approached and sat underneath the tree, drifting to sleep from his long journey.
A spark of inspiration can grow into a work of art, all that is needed is the right environment and the right conditions.
the fawnlet asked of
it takes without care or remorse, and the infantile glob like thing is dragged from its silent slumber.
ripping away from all that is warm, and carefree. where one does not need to breathe, or even think. there is no thought when you are there. but then you are hurled from this sanctuary. and the fawnlet screams, it wants to return there... to the place... it can't remember anymore. the fawnlet asks a final question... 'why have you taken me from my mother?'
You're crying. Why is that. I
I cry because they cry.
Warmth and wet.
?.
Michael pours himself like a
Auriea spreads herself through the teal wing of the sky like the sound of crows. She nuzzles the earth with the nose of the wind, and hangs in poppies as soft as red chruchbells. Her voice is the parting of a dove's beak, is the velvety shell of a fawn's ear, is the sound of everything growing.
The white stone on the Hill is warm with sunlight.
The gods are in the Forest.
On a clear, comfortable
Look up to the stars above. Even with light pollution you should at least be able to see one bright one.
Pick out a star. Any star at all. Find one you find particularly pretty or interesting. It can be a bright star or a dull star.
Now...stare at it for a few moments, and understand what the star truly is.
A star as a giant mass of atoms churning and spewing out. It is so hot that inside the center it creates elements - hydrogen to helium, helium to beryllium, beryllium to lithium, and so on...until the star fuses iron. When the right conditions are met, the core becomes unstable and the star becomes extremely hot and eventually explodes ("supernova"). It produces many of the elements past Iron on the periodic table, including Zinc, Copper, Silver, and Gold...many elements that are impossible to create without the intense heat and pressure from the supernova. These elements literally traveled across the galaxy, and by chance were sucked up into what forms the Earth now.
Look at that star for a moment. Remember that you are made of elements as well. Oxygen, Carbon, Nitrogen, Hydrogen, Potassium, Phosphorus, Copper, Zinc, Selenium, Molybdenum, Fluorine, Chlorine, Iodine, Manganese, Cobalt, Iron, Lithium, Strontium, Aluminum, Silicon, Lead, Vanadium...
You are not only made of stars...you are a star.
once in a while, she walks
she walks along that path.
she wonders,
'have we drifted?'
she closes her eyes; deep, rich, and always full of wonder.
'old friend... answer my question.'
the wind blows; the sounds of leaves rustling and grass swaying reaches her acute ears.
a smile.
No one will make it out of
On an old forgotten
Soon after, many other deer came and grazed here, following the doe's example. They walked past the old uniforms and rifles, past ammunition and supplies, only stopping to eat the grass and to look around at what seemed like a peaceful environment.
The deer looked to one another, forgetting who they were in their previous life.
Soldiers on both sides of the war who had died on this battlefield.
The cloud drifted by Slow but
Slow but determined
I watched it's globular form
I wondered where it came from
And why it made such a strange shape
And then I began to dream about being a cloud
And drifting by in the sky looking down at the beautiful land
But then I would miss my home, and I would begin to
C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C
R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R *
Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y
C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C
R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R *
Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y
C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C * C
R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R * R *
Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y * Y
And then I was back on the ground, and looking up, I saw a cloud drift by.
"to the idol who weeps"
They lie on the ground Photo
Photo after photo
Memory after memory
Everything she is,
Lies on the floor.
Next time, she'd be stronger
Next time she'd be a hero
This time, she wasn't.
She looked at her memories.
a nod, then a bow. she washas
leaving. treading lightly. she remembers.