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On HolidayDon’t ask me why I feel the need,
Don’t tell me what I should believe.
Don’t stitch me up when I bleed.
Don’t ask me why I want to leave.
I’m visiting my old friends.
Agony, hate and cruelty.
They’ve known me since it began,
And down the road so grueling.
Laced words, written in calligraphy.
Spaced out, Lost within the bigotry.
Hate all, indoctrinated by the ministry.
Love none, defining it by chemistry.
I embrace all of that which is dark.
Built the depths of my personal hell,
Led to a place on the map unmarked.
But I can tell you just where I fell.
Here I am, here I lay.
Here I’m dying today.
Here I was, Here I’ll be,
Hell of an Epitaph to me.
Where are you, wandering?
What kind of gift, did you bring?
Costs are up, Stocks are down.
And I’m here underground.
God is dead, long before,
In a box, nothing more.
Caustic sounds, Toxic play,
It’s a brand new holiday.
And I’m visiting my old friends.
Agony, hate, and cruelty.
Kill the ShepherdFolded hands in proper laps,
Wait for the speaker to conclude.
Rumbling audience and roaring claps,
Or silence, when verbally nude.
Exposing thoughts once locked up,
Truthful and too dangerous to touch.
Venom poured into a paper cup.
Or so, they will tell you as much.
Forge a word, hammer it down.
Display your fabricated passion.
Hear their cheers shake the ground.
Then exit the place in an orderly fashion.
A mask of words and costume designed,
Sheep are so easy to beguile.
Subtle promises seemingly benign,
Grow malignant after a while.
But an honest man is a quiet man.
Spotlights seem to elude him.
Microphones taken from his hand,
The media will only exclude him.
It is the unplugged words spoke,
So quiet they’re barely heard,
And then gone like a wisp of smoke,
That are the very best for the herd.
Sometimes it takes a wolf’s howl,
To stir the minds of wandering sheep.
The shepherd dead and wolf obeyed now will,
Shake them from an ignorant sleep.
Lifestyles of the Broke and Nameless.They look down at you from their pillars.
Stone canopies full of the colorful and gilded.
“You can’t come up here, you’re not the right kind.”
“Stay on the ground, no sun for the wilted.”
They stand on you. They live so high.
On the broken backs of the working class.
Hold them up, work til you break for a shot.
To climb up too and sit on your ass.
We hold these truths to be self-evident,
But denied to those south of the canopy.
That all men are created equal,
And have the right to be happy.
Something is terribly wrong here.
Where the spoils go to the spoiled.
A lifetime spent on the ground,
A lifetime spent on the work toiled.
Never enough to get to school,
Never enough to afford to retire.
Barely enough to window shop.
Barely enough to even aspire.
From the pillars, they look down.
As the pillars break and the broken stand.
Since all men are created equal,
Let them join us here on the land.
Allies x Reader: A new AllyI do now own hetalia or you!
(Name)= your name
(C/n) = country name
(E/c) =eye color
(H/l)= hair length
" " = actually speaking
' ' = what your thinking
(With the allies)
"Alright dudes!! Let's get this meeting goin!!" America shouted as he slammed his fist down on the table.
"Yes but where's (c/n)? They should be here considering their joining us today. Da?" Russia said. England nodded. "Obviously. Maybe it got lost." He said in a snarky tone. "It?" Russia said. "Well have any of you even seen them before?" England asked. They all shook their head. "Ohonon maybe it is a beautiful girl! Zhat would be nice oui?" France said. "She should be young. My boss said that she is about in her mid teens. Maybe 15, 16 aru." China said. Before anyone could say anything else could be said they heard the door slightly creek open. "H-hello? Is this the Allies meeting?" A small female voice asked. "Yes it is. Come in." Arthur said turning to the door. The door was opened wider to
A sad little dragon (working title)Some time ago, a blue dragon with green horns hatched out of a blue egg with green spots. He had a very big family, with lots of uncles, aunts, and many cousins. But he only had one sister; a purple dragon with red horns. The little blue dragon also had a Papa and a Momma, both of whom he loved very much.
But when the blue dragon was only beginning to learn to walk on his chubby little legs, his Momma dragon got sick. It wasn't a sickness you could see, like the measles or the chickenpox. Momma dragon changed, in a very scary way. She was angry, and mean to the other dragons. And one day, when the little blue dragon woke up, his momma was gone. All of the adults were very sad, especially Papa dragon.
"Where is Momma?" Asked the little blue dragon.
"She flew away, little dragon." Papa said.
"Where did she go?" Asked the little blue dragon.
"To a place very far away, where little dragons can never fly to."
The little blue dragon never saw his momma again. And he was sad.
Years went by, a
Adobe Slabs Segment 3
A glass dish clanked against the cold metal sink. M fumbled to catch it. A pause in the conversation led M to believe the others probably stopped to look over at him. That, or because Billy had taken another long swig of beer. M couldn't be sure; he tried to play it off like nothing happened.
Billy exhaled. “She’s at home with my mom. She's been napping around this time every day lately. It works for me so I didn’t wanna break that habit.”
"Oh! That's convenient! A little disappointing though, I was hoping to meet her..."
“Daughter?” M said quietly, thinking it to himself more than anything.
All at once the three guests looked over at M.
"Like... Daughter, daughter?" M asked.
"Um." Billy started.
Faith of the Heart-Part 3-Ch 23Faith of the Heart
Part 3: Chapter 23
Written by DisneyFan-01
HTML Coding by Shadow20X6
Previous Chapter | View Part 3 Gallery
"Gene!" Marina called out. "Gene! Are you up there!?"
There was no answer coming from the Argentum.
"Gah," she grunted and called again. "GENE! Are you there?!"
With her head and shoulders over the water by the hull of the ship, Marina paced in a small circle waiting for a reply. She had in her hand a bag that was once piece of cloth that she tied together at the corners. What she had inside the cloth she had to keep a secret from a certain captain f
Blackout Days (bit 1) I remember the Blackout Days, when I was young and machines thrummed. Dark days, yes, but there was the tiniest streak of light on the horizon called hope. Baseball players wore black uniforms; it was easier to see them against the floodlights. We didn’t have pets; anything was considered fair game for the table in those lean times. But we kept the machines running, and focused on that strip of light on the horizon.
Looking back now after so many years, it’s amazing that we took it all in stride. But it was just the way things were. I was twelve when I began work in the factory, my schooling done. But I was proud; I was doing something important. I was feeding the machines, making sure they never stopped. I didn’t really know at the time what might happen if they stopped, but I knew it was something bad. It was every citizen’s duty to contribute, to keep those machines working. I was glad to do it, even though my hearing is diminished now from the no
Virus - VT Series - #2: The UniversesWhile the three other siblings stared in shock, Bethany was the only one who pulled herself out of surprise to explain everything. She told them where they lived, who they were and about the YouTube channel. Like to her character, Gertrude managed to describe where they were.
‘We’re in a world called Garry’s Mod. Not this ‘Earth’. You said we’re in a game, yes? Well, that’s a real universe. Each game created has its own universe. And this is ours. Funny thing is, ours is right next to yours. That’s why we can see you so clearly.’
‘But how come you can see us?’ Bethany asked.
Gertrude shrugged. ‘Still figuring that out, honestly.’
Mature as she was, she was also gifted with not just kindness but intelligence too. She turned round to Papa and said, ‘If we can open the portal fully, then it’ll let them get into our universe. Maybe they can help with the-,’ she raised her eyebrows, hiding what e
Homicidal Liu X reader pt 1 (Commissioned)
I was commissioned to make a Liu x reader, so here we go!
You were walking home one night looking at text messages on your phone. You heard laughing and looked over and saw a couple of boys. The boys looked at you and smirked at each other. "Looks like we caught us a hot babe tonight." one of them said. They walked towards you. One boy was infront of you while the other grabbed you from behind. "Hey, what do you say we have some fun?" The boys smirked at you. You gasped. "NO, LET GO OF ME!" You yelled. You struggled, but the boy wouldn't let you go. The boy infront of you grabbed your chin. "Now, now. let's not be difficult." He smirked.
You snapped at the boys hand with your mouth, making him move it away. You elbowed the other guy's stomach, making him let go of you. "Bad idea, hun." One of the boys said and pinned you to a tree, pinning your wrists above your head. "NO LET ME GO! HELP!" You cried. You closed yo
Silas - Chapter 2
I stretch my tail out in front of Jeremy's shuffling feet.
He trips. His coffee lid pops off at the moment he collides with his boss, and the boss's suit is soon soaking in steaming hot liquid.
"Ow! What the—"
Jeremy stares in horror at his furious employer, clutching his empty coffee cup.
"Oh, Boss, I am so sorry, please let me clean that for you!"
"No," snaps the boss. "That was the last straw, you clumsy oaf. You're fired!"
"Please..." breathes Jeremy. "I can't be...."
His boss starts to unbutton his suit coat.
"You are. I give you until the end of today to be packed and out of this office building for good." He glares hard at Jeremy, daring him to challenge his superior a second time.
Jeremy stands in shock, then backs away and turns into his cubicle. "Yes sir," he mumbles.
~ ~ ~
I watch in silence from the shadow in the corner. They can't see me at all, but I can see them oh so well. A snicker rises up in my throat and I can't hold back a breathy laugh.
"What was that?" The
Hetalia X Half Wolf! Male! Reader Chapter 2 (Y/N) couldn't stand to let anyone see him as he ran out of the large building, biting his lip to keep any and all salty tears from spilling. He bit harder and harder, drawing a crimson liquid at one point as the painful memories flooded his entire being. With each hurried step, his legs would feel weaker, his mind buzzing with mystery and his eyes brimmed with hurt.
When he came to an empty area near the beach, he slid down a tree, his hands practically ripping hair from his head.
"G-god damnit... Why am I remembering this all now?" (Y/N) called to himself.
Aww, little wolf boy doesn't like it! He's crying, oh boo hoo!
"Stop hitting me, please! It hurts!"
Don't cry! Crying's for the weak.
Stay here, and I'll be back
"But you never came back! You never did!" (Y/N) cried out, wishing to forget, to never feel again. He
Silas: Page SixThe days grew cold.
Every roof had to be burned.
Control is a word in the dictionary.
He resorted to hopping freight cars, but after the incident in Omaha, there wasn't any chance of that working out either.
Silas was alone.
"Sir, you can't sleep here."
His eyes cracked open to gaze upon the face of the transit police officer.
"Please…Its cold outside."
He thought for a moment.
"Ain't you got nowhere to go?"
Silas shook his head. "No roof. No family."
"Hit me. I'll bring you to jail for the night. No charges. No prison. And it'll get you out of the cold."
Silas smiled a bit, "That's a strange way to show kindness, but I have to decline. Can't be around people."
The transit cop pulled him off the bench and dusted his clothes off.
"Then you picked the wrong station. This place gets awful busy in the morning."
"Alright. I'll go."
Silas walked outside and the snow coming down reminded him of all those cold days of December back at the Asylum.
He couldn't remember the last
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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