The Unheard Voice

Yeh, well, Hi. I really don’t feel like reviewing someone else’s blog. What I do feel like doing is posting junk I’ve written (by the way, I’m not saying their crappy, I just don’t want to sound up myself and say they rule… when they don’t.). So, yeh, whatever and here, a sonnet I was pretty much forced into writing, a poem that I also was forced into writing and… OMG another piece of writing I was forced to do (in my art class… I just like the description).

Lost forever and Alone Always – Sonnet
It’s always just a lingering thought
Lost in the swelling waters of a Reverie
Where things that were neve lost are being sought
Drowning in the tide of stifled memory
Could it be, will it ever?
The under currant dragging me down under
This could never be a ‘forever’
Like in a rip I’m being dragged away
This grip of emotional decay
More than this pain? I could never ever last
The downward spiral of this deceit
It should be thrown into the dark and morbid past
How could I ever keep this from you?
Of my understanding little secret self.
 

One Window is All I Need – Poem
One window is all I need
To expose my lies and insecurities,
For my emotion to come swelling back.
So instead of losing all that was said
And to stop another mask being put in place
One small window is all I will ever need.
Will you ever hear what I’m trying to say?
My words lost, the window open too wide
Exposed, am I just a lie?
Will you ever see what is there?
Is it obvious? This hidden despair?
This window exposing my secret self
For you to understand, one window is all I need.

Art Short Story about art Piece

 The Night’s Friend and the Hunter’s Game

 The moon was lingering far overhead and the stars twinkling down upon the red sands of the beach, illuminating what would be a dark and lonely night. The wind whistled across the waves that beat down relentlessly on the sands, refining the broken pieces of shell and rocks. The red of the sand darkened nearer to the water, the loud roaring of the ocean waves slowing down to a gentle lapping, so quiet you really had to listen closely to hear them. The night was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky, the velvety darkness pressing down on the world and its inhabitants.
Above the reddened sand and green waves of the ocean flew a silvery grey beast, its charcoal black wings beating to a rhythm only the animal could hear. A howl resounded from its open muzzle, echoing across the great expanse of sea and land. The rhythmic beating of its wings slowed, and the dog like beast surged downward, curving near the end of its nose dive and landing gracefully on the red sand, the water lapping around its great paws.
The Dog’s oversized tail swished playfully behind it, the great wings straightening so they reached for the sky, attempting to touch the far off stars. The Dog ruffled the floppy purple hair atop its head, flicking the falling fragments from its black, abyss-like eyes. He lowered his muzzle to the sand, sniffing suspiciously at the last few impressions of feet – which we so far gone a human would hardly have noticed them. The beast raised its head, glancing over its shoulder. The maker of the foot prints had gone that way. There were around three culprits, and the Dog could smell a sense of purpose with the last few hints that they had passed.
The large Canine howled again, raising its nose to the sky in a salute to the brilliantly shining stars and softly glowing moon, a thank-you for lending their light on such a night. The Dog growled as sand rustled behind him, the few whispers of the returning passers-by at this Point. He stared into the darkness, blessing his light reflecting eyes as he spotted the Hunters.
Fear and apprehension slipped its way into the cold interior of the Hounds mind, clouding its once steely judgment from any coherent thought.
The Dog howled mournfully. A gun went off. The thud of the fallen beast echoed across the silently lapping waves, the wind whistling across the ocean and sand, whipping up particles and throwing them into the eyes of the Hunters, and into the pooling blood of the beast.
The beast slowly shut its eyes, the darkness of the night pressing in on his consciousness, the cold tendrils of death creeping in, shutting off his thoughts, blacking out the pain and the joyful cries of the Hunters.
To them the Hound was nothing more than game. To the Night the Hound was nothing less than a friend.

Over 

Isn’t it… LAME??? -blinkblink- I don’t really like it, but all my otehr short stories are kinda… weird… O_o;; But yah, I like the one I wrote for lit. It’s based on a character of mine and what happens in a certain spot of his life. Like… a new student coming and the break-up of a relationship. Doesn’t go into to much detail over the break-up though, and what it put’s him through. I might make it into a multi-chapter story on FictionPress.com… -thinks-

Aww well. Bye bye.

OMG HOLIDAYS!! -does a strange little dance- I GET TO SLEEP IN AND BE MORE ALIVEEEE!!! -gigglesnort-

BYEEEE -runs off screaming excitedly-

Rockeh the Strange
 

This entry was posted on September 15, 2006 at 12:15 am and is filed under Uncategorized . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.