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Literature
The Things We Left Unsaid (1/2)
  The sunrise had a soft glow to it, a pale orange that painted the meadow in golden light. The birds were just beginning to sing, an occasional whistle, a whispered song drifting through the spring breeze. Abigail Austin plucked a small, lavender flower from amidst the blades of grass, twirling the green stem between her fingers. She wove it into the crown on her lap, her green eyes focused carefully on the task at hand.
  "I've found more white ones," a deep, feminine voice said from behind. Leila held a small, short bouquet of flowers, their snowy petals a sharp contrast against her dark hands. "They were closer to the creek bed."
  Abigail nodded, gently taking the bouquet. Lovely. she thought, holding them up to admire. She smiled at Leila, who nodded in acknowledgement. "Come," she beckoned Abby to stand. "We've been here an hour, at least. We'd best start walking back."
  Brushing off her skirt, Abigail handed Leila the flower crown. Finished, it
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Literature
NotM: Let the Wheels Keep Turning
Oh, what is glitt'ring gold to me,
when compared with rays of warmth upon one's cheeks?
tick
   tock

Oh, what are chains of silver to me,
when held up to the shimm'ring waves of the sea?
tick
   tock

Oh, what are chests of jewels to me,
when I remember the sparkle in your eyes?
tick
   tock

Oh, but what are all of these things,
when I fall, and fail to rise?
tick
   tock

Mourn not my possessions, my wit, or words deemed wise.
Mourn me not, oh dear heart, and stand tall.
tick
   tock

For the time we wasted, forgetting we were old,
Is our most precious memory of all.
tick
                  tock
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Literature
NotM: Red Sky, Black Sea (3/5)
The Sound of Music

  Maggie drummed her fingers against her table. Her eyes were tiring, her vision blurring and her lids drooping. When a waiter set a glass down in front of her, she felt her jaw clench. A crystal glass, filled with white wine - presumably from the inn's most expensive bottle. It might have been tempting, if it had been given under different circumstances. Why. Can't. He. Just. Bother. Someone. ElseHer head sunk to the table. "Our host is bored, it would seem." Maggie thought she might throw the glass across the room. There was a slim girl in the corner of the bar, with black hair and lovely blue eyes. Her nose was pointed and her hair shorter than what would have been generally accepted, but she was by no means unattractive. Why not her, Gareth? Why not the woman with red hair and curved hips, or the old woman wearing pearls and drowning in red wine, or the angry man shaped like a pear? They all seemed perfectly ch
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Mature content
NotM: Red Sky, Black Sea (2/5) :icontruthistruth:TruthisTruth 5 44
Literature
NotM: Red Sky, Black Sea (1/5)
Landlocked

  Maggie had always loved the seas. The feeling of a ship's deck beneath her feet as they set off; the sound of the ocean's waves angrily crashing against the hull; the rippling cloth of the sails as they were unfurled and caught the wind; the pride of seeing her colors flown high above her as she held onto the wheel.
  And yet, she now found herself incredibly grateful that they were docked. Red night, sailor's delight; red morning, sailor's mourning. she thought, watching the charcoal colored clouds flow over the crimson horizon. The wind already carried the smell of rain with it, and the loud boom of thunder would occasionally roll through the atmosphere. It wasn't going to be a good night for sailing. 
  From the door of the inn, she could see a few of the inhabitants of Crow Island scurrying through the streets. They weren't eager to be caught up in a tropical storm. Maggie had been hesitant about leaving the Tric
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Mature content
NotM: E(X)tract, E(X)pose, E(X)ecute :icontruthistruth:TruthisTruth 7 38
NotM: Truth the Farseer by TruthisTruth NotM: Truth the Farseer :icontruthistruth:TruthisTruth 7 44
Literature
3. Blindwalker
  The mansion smelled like cider. Potent, sweet, and livened with cloves and cinnamon, the scent drifted from room to room. Truth could feel the warmth from the fireplace, the heat defrosting her trembling hands. It was the coldest winter she could remember - but then, that might have been because she could no longer rely on her sight to determine such things.
  But she knew there was snow. The icy substance had crunched beneath her boots as men with metal gloves dragged her into Varand's home. It had been cold when she first came to the Blindwalker's temple, but that was in the south; here, in the rich, scarcely populated castles of the north, it was no surprise that the countryside was blanketed with snow.
  At least, she assumed it was.
  Unfortunately, she wasn't given much time to consider it. They tossed her to the wooden floors as if she were a doll, her manacles weighing her down and making her muscles scream in protest. Do they think I'll escape?<
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NotM Secret Santa: Kasatka by TruthisTruth NotM Secret Santa: Kasatka :icontruthistruth:TruthisTruth 5 5
Literature
NotM: A Letter From the Hangmen
oh captain
           oh captain
you aboard the jester's vessel
won't you come play?
the demon that was an angel,
his feathers will make a fine noose
beware, sightless oracle clad in red,
the floorboards are getting rather loose
your crew is an experiment, with disastrous results
shall we tie a r o p e around their wrists
have them walk the plank?
when the merman swims in poisoned waters
it's us you'll have to thank
the girl who is a wolf
can feel death's sigh on her back
the monster with red eyes
his metal skeleton will crack
oh captain
           oh captain
is it getting rather c o l d?
a ship that's barely sailed the sea
isn't allowed to be so b o l d.
bring your witches
bring your doctors
you wouldn't want to run
bring your warlocks
bring your
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Literature
2. Blindwalker
  She could barely hear their whispered arguments from her cell. The old priest had spun a tale of how she attacked him, how he had no choice but to throw the poison at her, else risk being murdered by this mad woman. It was only half true.
  Truth had only heard bits and pieces after that. Another man, one with a deep, gruff voice was profusely scolding him for his actions. Somehow, she doubted it was because of any concern for her well being.
  They'd wasted no time throwing her in a prison, after all.
  It hadn't been a minute after the burning in her eyes subsided that she felt rough, calloused hands pull her to her feet and drag her away. Whoever they were, they all but carried her down what felt like a spiraling staircase as she pushed and shoved away from them.
  They weren't gentle when they tossed her to the cold, stone ground, locking chains around her wrists with a harsh click and slamming a door that had the rough, r
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Literature
NotM: Trickster's Pride
  Up. One, two, three. Truth's boots clacked against the wood of the ship as she walked along the deck. A cool breeze drifted past her, and she could hear the faint sounds of the guards snoring. She smelled whiskey mixed in with the salt of the sea, and tt comforted her to know they weren't likely to bother her in their drunken state.
  Zoe was pulling the mooring lines, Djör had lifted the anchor, and Kasatka was dropping the sails; the Trickster's Pride was almost ready to set sail.
  One, two. Right. One, two, three. she remembered. She'd repeated every step from her vision, and it had worked; she could feel the iron of the lantern in front of her, along with the hard wax of the candle inside it. Her fingertips brushed against the side of the wick. Reaching carefully into a pouch on her right side, Truth pulled out two rocks and held them to the lantern's opening.
  Flick. She cracked them together as hard as she
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Literature
NotM: The Blindwalker's Pledge
  The wind was howling, whistling in Truth's sensitive ears and shaking the wooden walls of the inn. She didn't doubt that the foundation could hold its own against the storm, but she winced at the noise. Every time thunder sounded in her ears, she felt her stomach tie in knots. 
  She was leaning forward on her table, her head in her arms and curses escaping her lips. There wasn't even the slightest chance she would sleep tonight, and she didn't trust herself to walk up the steps and to her room. Griff and Liz would be asleep by now, she was sure, and everyone else in the bar had had enough wits in them to head out before the storm got any worse. Truth deeply regretted not doing the same.
  It wasn't that she was drunk, because she most certainly was not. She knew if she tried to stand, her legs would give out beneath her, and she wouldn't have any strength in her to stand back up. Storms like this always made her feel sick, but none so badly as this. S
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Literature
anxiety in a crowded, dark, unimpressive nutshell
i felt like i was falling through a glass abyss
and the glass turned to rain
and the rain turned to ice
and the ice melted on my skin
seeping into my cuts
and turning them to scars
my veins are blue and cold
and my heart is in my head
my head is spinning from the fall
but my blood is running red
so i hide behind the strings of violins
and piano keys and drum beats
and harmonies sweet as sin
but the tv is too fragile to be a shield
the keyboard can only express so much
my paperbacks and hardcovers
can't fight my demons for me forever
and there's a pressure in my mind
like two anvils colliding on a swing set
something pushing them from behind
and how can symbols on a screen explain
something so dark
so dull
so mundane
as my existence
though i tried to make it romantic
eloquent
beautiful

real
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Literature
Poison
  "Hmm..." Vera lay casually on the couch, grimacing at the newspaper while her green eyes darted across the pages. "You getting anything, Vance?" she asked with a yawn. "'Cause all I'm finding are a bunch of speeding tickets."
  "No," a man in a grey business suit replied. He was sitting in a brown leather armchair, casually holding a mug of coffee in his right hand and a newspaper in his left. "But then, I've been reading an article on the recent outbreak of an extremely lethal virus here in Boston. Only a select few are getting it, mostly frail or elderly-"
  "Ooh!" Vera sat up excitedly, a giddy smile on her face. "There was a hit and run on Lutheran Drive. Doesn't that sound interesting?"
  "Fascinating." Vance rolled his eyes.
  "We should check it out." She tightened the laces on her brown boots. "It was in front of the graveyard, so we can pretend we're visiting a dead grandpa or something if the police are hanging around."
  "Can't it wait? I have
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Literature
Spirits in the Woods
  A cool, sweet breeze drifted through the air, blowing autumn leaves across the ground. The sun began to peek out from behind the clouds, kissing the forest floor with its warmth.
  The animals of the woods were strangely silent; even the the birds ceased from their songs. Not the crickets though. Nezumi thought with bitter irony. Their chirps filled the morning air with music. On a louder day, they could've been easily ignored, but as of now, the woods were eerily silent.
  The bang from his rifle broke the trance quickly enough.
  His target fell with a loud thump, tossing leaves into the crisp air. The man had seemed large, even from a distance, but that was no longer the case. Now he was just a simple man in a puddle of his own blood, gasping for breath as the color drained from his square features. His skin turned the color of curdled milk, his eyes widened and bulged from their sockets while the wound in his chest turned hi
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Random Favourites

Literature
Forever in Slumber
I want to fall asleep
Forever counting sheep
For my eyes to never open
For the truth to kept hidden
To stay on this bed
To never move my head
To keep my lips sealed
To need no wounds healed
To always be alone
To never leave the safety of home
To never open that door
This is the life I wish for
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Words Within Words....
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Literature
the water
i almost drowned a few years back that december.
you were making waves before i even hit the water
on a hill in hartford and elsewhere out east.
it's crazy to think we never would meet if it weren't for me
losing my cool and now i can't kick it, but fuck it.
it's as if it we're meant to be and you were meant for me;
both broken, we push it, and smile, and bullshit.
sometimes i skip rocks and she sings songs.
the tide turned sometime when you hit a different dialect,
a different tongue, my stomach turned, lines blurred,
i wanted to run or at least push myself into the pool.
sink or swim, crash and burn,
it's all the same, i live and learn,
but what's there to gain when the mistake isn't mine
and i'm still doing time staring at the water,
staring at the water,
staring at the water, i remember
i almost drowned a few years back.
:iconlacesoutvic:lacesoutvic
:iconlacesoutvic:lacesoutvic 112 20
Literature
Blessing
My father strangled a bird
quietly, calm as gravity,
there in the garden. He bent
as if praying to the torqued wing
reddening his hand.
The night hunkered down on the screaming
wildness, on the kicking legs, the abrupt
and awe-filled silence. I watched him
watch the beak open, close,
like rippling lake water.
I loved him, the mercy
of his heavy knuckles, the kindly
indifferent expression.
He closed the beak like a priest
closes the eyes.
:iconsaartha:saartha
:iconsaartha:saartha 219 120
Strawberry pie by whijaya Strawberry pie :iconwhijaya:whijaya 25 0 Chocolates by whijaya Chocolates :iconwhijaya:whijaya 15 0 { Free Icon } --  Sprite by Hardrockangel { Free Icon } -- Sprite :iconhardrockangel:Hardrockangel 1,030 269
Literature
Salem
I.
the bright scarlet egg of dawn
nests in my head.
when it is time, it will crack my
skull like a shell
and be born.
II.
I have a witch's fingers and a
witch's eyes, rough pewter lenses
through which I see the world.
I have sabotaged their crops,
I have plagued their children,
I have eaten their livestock in the night
   (so they say)
and I hear the whispers in the streets.
they will be willing to kill
for their conviction, though
I am not willing to die for it.
III.
I am no longer human.
I've been branded
with an ugly mark
of fear and desperation,
one terse syllable that cuts
like a switch.
IV.
a thin reddish line splits the horizon;
I set my ribs on hinges
so they can get to my heart.
a damp wooden platform,
a rough rope necklace—
I am not a Spartan
carried home on his shield.
this is not an honourable death.
:icontoxic-nebulae:toxic-nebulae
:icontoxic-nebulae:toxic-nebulae 186 102
Literature
the theatre
it is a Tuesday afternoon
and I observe
the proscenium arch
of your spine.
I am separated from you
by several degrees,
a world and a half,
the ornate, sweeping divide
between watcher and watched
(and you've never cared
to break the fourth wall)
:icontoxic-nebulae:toxic-nebulae
:icontoxic-nebulae:toxic-nebulae 170 85
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I'll start by saying I'm very sorry I haven't been all that active lately; I've barely gotten online at all in three weeks. ^^; With school, work, and volunteering taking up most of my time, I'm finding myself on my computer less and less. This being the case, I've decided to take a temporary hiatus, so I can get my real life in order.

Again, I apologize for my absence, and I hope to be back soon!

-Truth Rose
 
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TruthisTruth
Truth
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
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I am an author with a love for all things fantasy related. I write prose, poetry, short stories, one-shots, and plan on eventually getting an original story published.
Books are my second best friends, my first being my dog (may she rest in peace). Reading is one of my favorite past times, and my dream job would honestly have to be becoming an experienced, and hopefully talented author. Or a food critique, but that's neither here nor there.
My goal is to receive criticism (good or bad), and some serious advice on how to improve my writing. Thus far, I'd say it's worked pretty well!

NotM Stamp - Eye Of The Storm by Diluculi Crew Stamp by Diluculi

-Truth

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While reading, I found the poem to be incredibly smooth. It was easy to get through and had no bumps that made it hard to swallow, and ...

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:iconlittle-blind-mouse:
little-blind-mouse Featured By Owner Aug 19, 2017
Happy birthday~~
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:icon4dojo:
4dojo Featured By Owner May 31, 2017
truth is truth and that's the truth.
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:iconnightshade-keyblade:
nightshade-keyblade Featured By Owner Aug 19, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
:iconhappybirthdaysignplz:
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(1 Reply)
:iconstargirl2791:
stargirl2791 Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the fave on "Autumn Again!"
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(1 Reply)
:icondarlingangel0565:
DarlingAngel0565 Featured By Owner Jun 16, 2016  Professional Writer
Thank you so much for the fave Truth :) :rose:
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