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What the Gods Are.What The Gods Are.
We are the Oceans, We are the Seas
We are the Music, We are the Breeze.
We are the Spirit, We are the Way
We are the Night, We are the Day.
We are Lust and We are Love,
We are the Rain that falls from above.
We are the Laughs, We are the Groans,
We are your Comfort when you feel alone.
We're Beauty, We're Charm, We're Youthfulness too,
We are the Birch, the Willow, the Yew.
We're the Heavens above and the Earth below,
We are the Truth and the Lies you sow.
We are the Smiles, and We are the Strife,
We are Death and We are Life.
We're Sex, We're Tears, We're Alcohol too,
We are your Friendships both old and new.
We are the moon and We are the Sun,
We are the Sadness and We are the Fun.
We are the Healing and We are the Pain,
We are the Good and We are the Bane.
We are the Hunt and We are the Breath,
We're North, We're East, We're South and We're West.
We are the Curses and We are the Blessings,
We are your Energy and with you when Resting.
We are Time, Space and Every
Short Random PoemWould you hold me till the morning light?
Making sure that Im alright.
Would you dry away my tears
And scare away all my fears?
Psychic WarsWe were all psychic once, we all had the Gift. Our world was utopian, with telepathy our people were kept in balance. Hate and love never got the best of us. Then as technology progressed one by one the people turned from the gods and lost their gift.
With the loss of their Gift, many people became violent, killing without remorse for their actions. Within time those with out the gift became jealous of those of us that still had it. This jealousy engendered spite, which became lies, and then fear. The remaining telepaths became the source of ridicule and hate.
When the Gift-less became leaders of our world, they made laws against us, massacring us and starting a civil war, those with telepathy against those without.
However we were not without help, as they had progressed so had we. With time our powers grew, we could invade minds if we needed to, we had gained the power to mirror empathy and had gained minor precognition. A few of us had even gained the ability to move objects with ou
Prayer to AnubisAnubis, my saviour, my protector, my guide.
Protect me from those who would wish me harm.
Fiercely guard those that I love.
Watch over me day and night.
And when I pass from this world judge me fairley
TrigulWe were silent, for he was here.
The dark lord of filth and carnage.
Millions were dead in his name.
Our people were martyred by him.
He still roams in that white palace.
Possible storyHe looked as though he was in his late thirties, but his eyes knew no age. That deep azure looked through Kazukis youth and pierced his soul. Kazuki felt his heart flutter in his chest and for a moment he was breathless. The man smiled warmly, stood from his stool, walked through the crowd, and sat in the seat next to Kazuki. Onamae wa nan desu ka? he asked. His voice was as sexy as his eyes and for a moment Kazuki was dazed, but he snapped out of it to answer the mans question. Sera, Kazuki demo eigo wa hanasemasu ka? The man nodded and said smiling, Of course I speak English, it is necessary for my work. By the way my name is Tsuyoshi Tanaka. It struck Kazuki as slightly weird that this man shared his fathers name, but maybe it was the sign from the gods that he had prayed for. Forgive me if Im wrong but your Japanese right? Kazuki nodded. Youre from America though right?
One-Shot: Thomarie nuestro primer besoThomas Pov
Nunca imagine que el momento que tanto esperé fuera así, tan inusual, sin planear nada, solo así sin nada; no salió como me lo esperaba; todo fue único y especial. Me sorprendió que aunque fuera un accidente lo valoro tanto; no sé si tú lo valores tanto como yo este momento; aunque fue accidental para mí fue muy especial.
Aún recuerdo ese caluroso día de verano el cual el calor rebasaba los límites, estar con gabardina no era una opción, el calor me obligaba a usar ropa ligera la cual jamás pensé usar aun siendo verano, todo culpa de la pelirroja solo por querer rebasar los límites de la física por intentar hacer un arcoíris, pero en vez de eso la máquina exploto lanzando un rayo al sol haciendo que este se acerque un poco más a la Tierra y el calor aumentara, nuestros padres trataron de arreglarlo, pero el rayo fue demasiado fuerte por eso no lo revertieron claro
Dawn of the AngelI watched him descend from the sky
wings, pale as ivory.
The beauty in his form
a sight to behold.
I felt, not meant to see.
Yet, he stood there
in all of his glory;
a definite, masculine, form.
With a soft expression
he met my soul
his eyes, Heavely warm.
I could only look back
that such a creature, was here with me;
on this dawning day
I watched as the rays
touched his wings.
It was almost blinding.
When he spread his wings
it filled me with awe, and grace.
For what had happened this morn
was a miracle.
I'd looked an Angel
in the face!
Squirmin' HermanI met a boy in science class nobody seemed to like.
His clothes were torn, his face unclean, all wished he'd take a hike!
Teacher called upon his name and said: "Now define vermin."
He squirmed and squirmed there in his seat, now he's Squirmin' Herman!
Then one day I noticed that his seat was left unsat.
No one seemed to care and yet I wondered: "Where's he at?"
After class I asked the teacher if she knew his plight?
What she told me 'bout him has me crying every night!
Seems his mother left him when he was a child of two.
His father worked a stressful job and came down with the flu.
He had no health insurance and so tried to work it through.
Sad to say he died last week and left poor Herman blue.
I decided on that very day I'd find that boy and then,
tell him that I'm sorry and that I want to be his friend.
Kids like Squirmin' Herman need assured that they're okay.
I'm hoping that I get that chance, tomorrow or today!
A Poem Dedicated to Robin Williams.
A man of many different faces.
Whose joy and energy,
Always filled the hearts of many
Through out the entire, modern world.
The one who always made us laugh,
Even in our dark times,
Though none could have seen
The battle he fought, deep within.
He fooled us to the very end,
So full of life and light.
The actor who gave more
Then he ever took.
Robin Williams, forever gone.
But never forgotten.
Who he was made him
Stand out from the crowd.
And yet, hour laughter
Made him become stronger
And more wild in sight.
Robin Williams, a man
Who always wanted to
Help others more then
Himself. Kind of like me.
But who could tell
What he was fighting
Deep inside, a war with depression.
A war he long fought.
Who says a man can be weak?
All of his roles, and all of his fans
Each role seemed to represent
A Part of ourselves.
From the quirky Professor Phillip Brainard.
To kindly Mrs Doubtfire.
And the carefree genie from Aladdin.
From the crazy and kind alien
Who always said Nanu Nanu.
These were but a
What s in a name.What´s in a name?
It´s just a word that we call,
Everything and everyone
has a name,
does it make us a better person?
No... what a shame
Does it define our characters?
No... it´s not to blame
Does it have any financial status?
No .... but maybe fame
So if you´re a rockafella, a Gates,
a Trump or even the Queen
It doesn´t matter
shout your name
I am who I am
and I have a name
cos deep down inside
we´re all just the same.
by Suzanne Karbach August 2014
The last to knowAfter your secret was revealed,
she didn´t know how she should feel.
You said you loved her,
paid for a ring,
she was foolish, so naive,
to trust in you
When all the time behind her back,
you kept on going off the track.
Lying, cheating naturally,
hurting people easily.
But now she knows
what your friends knew,
you didn´t love her
were never true.
she´s so upset, what should she do
she loved you so, was good to you
How could you really be so cruel
making her just look a fool
One thing is frustrating though
How come she was the last to know?
By Suzanne Karbach August 2014
TypingTurtleShe types the words slow.
Holding them close in her head,
She lets them all go.
The words just won't flow,
No matter how hard she tries.
Yet they echo in her head.
Like the broken up whispers,
That lie in her bed.
A past full of feelings, That bleed so strong.
A word from her head
could undo the wrongs.
..she opens her mouth
The earth starts to slow.
All light dims out,
Her eyes start to glow.
Everything is nothing
Just a glimpse, of future past.
But she can't keep up
Her dreams are just to vast.
A keystroke interrupts
So she types the words slow.
Guarding them in her head,
She lets them flow.
They just won't go
The standard answerAfter taking hard knocks
full of emotional pain
You pick yourself up, dust yourself off
and simply join lifes struggle again.
With hopes dashed demoraliszed
time and time to date.
In the aftermath on being asked "How are you now?"
You always answer "Me? I´m doing great!"
This is the standard answer
the one they want to hear.
They don´t want to hear your troubles
it fills them full of fear.
Fear for the future
and what might be in store
full of problems and hardship
maybe a whole lot more.
they ask politely but still just want to hear
"I´m fine thanks really."
Exactly what you said the day before.
by Suzanne karbach August 2014
ShorelineBetrothed to flaw
To the choice before choice
Where there is only emotion
And a half-remembered voice
Telling what one saw
First line of foamy wake
Loud and churned from behind
There sent upon a seething land
What comes before the blind
As action without mistake
Parts of the watch
A spring or gear or hand
Drowning in responsive steps
Their time is harried by swirling sand
Its face imperfect lie staunch
As islands shape the water
It sends providence unchecked
The first passage of philosophy
Contained of following specks
That grow until all is overturned
Conjoined by the timepiece
Fixed into a broken state
They suffer in each other
First blows harsh to take
Fueled from accosted belief
The BeginningHe told them, of course. He told those idiots everything, the whole damn story, including the blunder he'd made, and its consequences. Looking back on it later, he realized he had probably been in shock the whole time. It made sense, anyone would have been.
Soph was about twenty years old, and he'd been that way for a couple of years already, ever since the Hoarde had started attacking humanity from the past. Every day that passed, they ate at another day in the past. It sickened him. Those creatures had absolutely no regard for proper time and causality protocols.
It didn't seem to affect anyone else that way, though.
The Hoarde was the result of a human creation, of course, like everything bad in the world, though no one else knew about them. Then again, no one else had undiluted access to the power of creation. Even he didn't know much about the Hoarde, only that they appeared through some tear in The Fabric of The World and started killing people off. They appeared at some point in
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