| shimmering scars |
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| 08:00pm 27/07/2002 | |||||
It so simple for you to just say ok Watching the world spin around It hurts much when u hit the ground Now I come back and it has fade You promised me you would have stayed Emotions got in the way of your escape It’s so easy for you now so just waste your hate Sweet lies in the bite Put me down in the night Hollow promises with nothing but lies Fake words and just goodbyes Love lost its meaning To Pretty girls deceiving The pain is gone since you went away Name now in the whores of yesterday Its over now so just breathe in No more acts of sin Like a car crash I hit the end Drunk of tears watching the heart peels bend Toss the word love around like a whore A word we all adore It was all for the worst she said And it was love when we went to bed Love is dead Love is dead Love was never in your heart, just in your head Hes gone, nows your chance Take off your dirty underpants Kiss me sweetly Kiss me softly Another reget and so costly |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| Split |
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| 12:37pm 23/07/2002 | |||||
I keep my face stone like so many hearts. I can feel myself breaking in half as you take my life and crush it in your hands. The house and world splits in half and I feel my heart split in two. I taste your tears against my mouth. They reek of poison and I spit unto you my hatred. Your sorrow is self-indulgent and it disgusts me. My nonchalance is all for you though it kills me. Do you wish for me to respond? I have nothing to say to you. |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
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| 10:06pm 21/07/2002 | |||||
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Vincent: "When hope is lost beauty will show itself in the eyes of the pained..." Keko: "...hope is only lost in reality, and yet our reality is a dream we just can't seem to escape from so why is it that the dream can be so real when dreams are supposed to be sweet?" Vincent: "not all dreams are beautiful, they can be a frightening nightmare... and in which case one just has to sit back and watch the movie at hand. We can't escape fate, but you can distort it as if it were clay and make your perfect vase you've always been longing for, but you have to be skilled in the art of pottery." Keko: "And if you are not skilled?" Vincent: "The vase will come out looking like shit and your dreams will shatter as the vase does when it hits the floor." Keko: "And the beautiful vase in someone elses eyes gets thrown away from selfishness?" Vincent: "The life we all want is owned by somebody else and in irony we own the life that person wishes to own." Keko: "... and forever will the wheels turn." |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| Streams of Time pt.1 |
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| 04:47am 18/07/2002 | |||||
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It wasn't only the mist that stopped them. It was what that mist signified. Death and pain. Torture. They were standing at the edge of the Valley of the Mists, quite sure that if they went in, it would mean their deaths. No one had ever come out of the Valley of the Mists alive. Sometimes, in the wee hours of the morning - amid blackest skies - those who lived on the skirts of the Valley would hear bloodcurtling screams of the phantoms of those who the mists had devoured. Staring into this writhing mass was staring into certain death. But what choice did they have? They could hear the rumbles of heavily armored horses tromping close behind them. They could feel the air grow cold around them as they were forced to make a decision. Death by the hands of the traitor-king and his army - cut down by the soldiers' swords, captured, hung - or the untold horrors, unimmaginable torture and unspeakable death that loomed before them? They looked at each other, each having made his decision. There was only one thing left to be done. "Well, it's been fun." It could have been any of them that said it, or all of them. But they all heard it. They all felt it. And they were all content. Behind them horsed soldiers appeared on the horizon, thundaring towards them, full tilt. They tensed, but stood still, watching them come, waiting in silence. The soldiers rode ever forward, triumph gleaming off their armor. They'd been chasing these bandits for days. This moment would yeild the results their king had wanted for so long. They slowed their approach slightly. Certain of their victory, they would make their prey suffer, sweat the way they had before they'd cornered their quandries. The terrain was strangely soundless as the king's men approached. Silent. Things seemed to be happening in slow motion as the soldiers approached, already shouting out their victory cries. 15 feet, 10, 5, 3, 2. The comrades glanced at each other, wait for it... The soldiers were on top of them. NOW! As one, the group sprang backwards, flinging themselves into the dark Mist. As they volted backwards, they could see the look on the soldiers' faces as they tried desperately to stop their horses. At the edge of the Mist the soldiers stood and called out taunts, jeers, requests that they come out of the Mist before it was too late. But the small group of travelers ignored them. Instead, gripping each other tightly on both sides, they made their way ever deeper into the Mists, until the calls of the soldiers became a dull memory in the back of their minds. |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| 1 |
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| 02:23pm 12/07/2002 | |||||
| What if one morning you woke up and all of it. Everyone was gone. The world abondon, except me. And my flash backs. Replaying over and over in my head so fucking real a world so real. But fake in everyway. I am creator and the destroyer of this world of dreams. Welcome to a world of my imagination. Crazy no im not what makes me crazy. I have conversations with myself on the phone for hours, and out in public on a bench in the park. and in my car on the way home from the grocery store, They say it is all in my mind. all in my mind. could reality be this fake. | |||||
| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| Chameleon |
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| 02:51pm 30/06/2002 | |||||
already begin to shatter. My endurance has failed as this becomes a longer marathon each minute. Among the dead bodies and hate here, I stood and looked for you. You faded into the background. I can't see your outline anymore. So where did you go when I needed you? You wear your rotted skin with pride laced in oblivion. Do you really want to live this way? In an effor to make you understand, I spazzed. You hate me. I love you. You hurt me. I love you. You look down your nose at me from your pillar but so long as you look, it's fine. So something inside of me has shattered and I've split in two. I am a blebo. At least I'm not a chameleon. I don't like this at all but I figured I'd post it to get feedback from other people. Don't ask what a blebo is; I don't know either. |
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| 1 of the lost - O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
uncomfortable
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| 01:08am 30/06/2002 | |||||
Tears spill down silently over a reddened cheek. Memories return with a flood like salty drops of ocean. Tides have turned, washing away the past Leaving a barrenness in their wake. The cold winds inside strengthen, Reminding of icy endings and rough continuings. Things could never be the same, After that moment in time stretching too long. And yet, a yearning for the past remains Hidden in the memories of nostalgia.. Never to be fulfilled. Sobs rock the heart.. Bringing too much of everything along. The storms brew with a sudden finality. Raging winds toss the body; Rains pour upon the heart.. Battering, beating, and releasing. Emerging bruised and pained.. Tears continue to mix with the salt of the ocean. Too much, too soon.. No chance to recover from the blows. Retreating, over that way, Far from the elements of the past.. Perhaps the memories will stop flowing.. Cease desiring to be reality.. And remain in mind, distant and salt-less. |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
tired| Sweet Red |
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| 12:42am 30/06/2002 | |||||
Strange, I thought such an instant was all in my mind. I thought her words were rancid, spoiled with the putrid stench of lies. Odd, she stood, quietly, unaware, unavailable, unwilling. And then her blood spilled. I could not turn away from the waterfall. Weird, the shield I use was gone then. I hate her, I love her, what has she done? When I entered the room she threw the fact at my face and then called them opinions. Her blood, sweet red, is spilling onto my hands now. She looks like she wants me but it could be an act. Her eyes are red, sweet red, and I can't stand it. She waved her wrists from a mountain 'til someone did what was right. And her blood, sweet red, is still on the floor as she bowed and the curtain closed. Strange, maybe she's got only one face. And maybe she's not the only one who's insane. The blood has dried and stained my hands. I run for the sink but the water won't work. Oops, I think I've dawdled too long. her blood, sweet red, will remain forever. A constant reminder that I let her fall. |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
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| 06:58pm 29/06/2002 | |||||
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Pain tempts me in the dark alley. Agony brutally tearing down my walls and replacing them with cold, dark void. I sit and wait and wonder how long this brutal vision of apathy will overtake me. How long the pain will take to fade completely into the silence of nothingness. And I weep. |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| BroKen |
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| 11:59pm 24/06/2002 | |||||
| A child stands alone. she hides in a hole. Clothes tattered and darkened as if out of poverty. The walls all sticked and torn surrounding her. BroKen mirrors hanging but not of you. not of you...in the puddle of your own bloody tears your curled up in a ball, shaking, and rocking back a forth. The only light hangs from the middle of this room. All corners dark. 1 door remains. a door the leads to a corridor of doors all which hold dolls nothing bud dolls in them piled on shelves lead up a ceiling that is endless, But in this great corridor there is one a great door. If u open it u let candy mixed with razor blades poor in. which one is more then the other, which one.... she holds scars all over her body from all the cuts of the razor blades for she grabs the candy with glutney. She holds the blood stand candy in her palm of her hand. she eats the candy. she numbs all emotions. an addicted to the sweets. An Addict to the suffering. numb to the world. | |||||
| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| worthless |
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| 07:47pm 23/06/2002 | |||||
Angel i lay thee down to sleep in a feild where beauty weeps amongst the roses of the cost in the rapture were we got lost nut now it seems so distant and far in a feild amongst the stars. love= cyanide Love is like cyanide for at a time we would have dyed in hurt i drown you would have watched above as i hit the ground i reach up as your letting go now im alone in the great bellow. |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| Shadows of Decay |
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| 12:36am 22/06/2002 | |||||
cannt save me now Im drowning Lost in a maze Escape the pain Evertime i give myself up You Cut me good and clean In a place where things go unseen Hurting me Again Again again The hate is beating me down Beat me down I let u slip away Now im lost In shadows of decay back in the toy box Ill sit and wait Tell me it love Tell me its hate Im just another whore We come and we go Just another face Some more trash to throw Tell me with a kiss To get up and go And Go And Go And Go The hate is beating me down Beat me down I let u slip away Now im lost In shadows of decay |
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| 1 of the lost - O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| Amongst the Mist |
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| 08:11pm 17/06/2002 | |||||
| Two suns almost look like hands Reaching out and casting blue and purple shadows down upon the white sanded world of the unknown. A barron waste lands now, but once a furtile place filled with populious. Nothing living remains except 1 being. Fallen cities of there own destructions broken and decaying, once They held life but now hold nothing but silence.Twisted bonie mountains almost looking like they are reaching for the skie. Oceans made of glass distancing off into forever no ridges nothing but flat. Sometime if u walk the ocean flats u can see piles of TV boxes and if u walk long enough u may see them melted or melting into the ground. Pillers of spiked stones stick up from the ground looking like stalactites from catacombs (the things hanging from ceilings of caves) on the distant shores of the oceans of glass. walking threw the Pillers they say you can sometimes u hear the voices of the past, the cries of a last breath letting go.. or maybe is the hollow wind blow. a lost souls wonders alone. hoplessly searching for another like him.. | |||||
| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| I actually have no idea what I am saying here.. feel free to interpret! |
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| 08:52pm 15/06/2002 | |||||
An amethyst rose grows on the vine, Beautifully large, yet full of thorns. I pick the purple beauty, And am pricked by the thorns. Blood drips down my fingers, Yet I notice it not. Redness swirls upon the petals; I blink distractedly, Not even realizing it is my blood. I place the rose in a vase Upon my vanity; The water blends to a light pink. I sit there, alone To write, to contemplate. Softly tears wet my page.. Not tears of particular sadness, Simply tears held back too long. My raw fingertip Goes to wipe some tears away And it stings. Only then do I see The pain from the thorns, Still spotting light red. The rose remains beside me Intermixed with myself Without my realizing. I return to my journal, Now dotted with tears Painted with crimson. |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
artistic| Character One |
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| 05:49pm 23/05/2002 | |||||
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Height - 6"2 Hair - Dark, Grey streaks strtegically placed throughout Eyes - Grey with green tinge in the dark Age - Undetermined. Sex - male Body type - Medium build. Nothing particularly special. Special Abilities - None apparant Backstory - A brief spat between outside forces left his villiage in ruins when only a boy. His family, though intact, survived with little to nothing. Bitter about his family's loss and unwilling to see the good in the hard life that eventually saw the deaths of both his mother and his father, he eventually lost everything they'd earned to his obsession with gambling. His heart slowly turned to stone then, and became unbreachable once and for all after realizing the importance of what he'd lost. Angry and alone, he now journeys, imbittered to others. His appears occasionally, from township to township. Leaves if trouble starts. But every once in awhile, when and injustice is imposed upon another, that scared and hopefully little boy comes out, and he's been known to save a life or two from ruin. Name: Claec Ahote (Dark, restless one) |
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| O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| Journey Home |
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| 04:41pm 21/05/2002 | |||||
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| 2 of the lost - O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
blah| So Soft, The Night |
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| 12:11pm 16/05/2002 | |||||
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So lofty Covered in a blanket of cool grey myst All around The grass refreshingly damp Misplaced Dew. How sweet the sound of nothing How beautiful the silence. Calm Still Empty. Unchanging. Yet forever a mystery Lost in time Forgotten en masse Recalled only by me and you Now It holds me, caught between this world and the next. Undecided. No. Decided. Un-content. Living in shadows of fear and distrust and hatred. alone. Unmoved by anything. Except the night. So soft, the night and silent. This is one of my older poems. But I like the rhythm, and the images felt almost real as I was writing this. |
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| 2 of the lost - O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
| Walking with the one I love -Sorry this is so long |
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| 05:21am 15/05/2002 | |||||
| Through the darkness I seek what is close, what is near. The deserted streets are so open with an aura calming, and mysterious, terrifying and thrilling. I walk with the shadows lurking all around. In them lie the dreams that have died and the terrors of the unknown. But I fear not, for the one I love is near. He steps toward me as I step toward him. But as I walk closer to one person I love, I walk further from another. I think. It is too late to turn back, but too soon to continue. I am stuck in the middle of a decision that would never be made. Yet I continue to walk. The wind is cold and bitter and I imagine he is as cold as I. Does he know that this same coldness and bitterness lie in my heart? I hope not. I pass the tobacco fields that at times are filled with workers, working far from home, thinking of those they love as I do. I once feared these people, but now I know that they are simply sad and lonely souls. The wind rattles the grass and sounds as though desert snakes lie near, but I know there are none. The wind decieves often, not only with the snakes, but sounds of cars near. But there are none. Risk is the name of the game that I play. The only rule being fate, and that rule is often changed. What shall be my fate? Should I ever return home? I know I can never have him, but I dream of him. Love is what drives me. Love is what warms the cold air that blows relentlessly upon me. The road continues on, home out of sight. My destination seems so far, yet it is just within my reach. The wind howls yet again, warning me, challeging me to give up. But no, I have come this far, I will not give in now. At last I see him. Small, yet large, open, yet mysterious. We talk and walk the streets. Some how though, they are different. The roads are shorter. Who is to blame for the distance? Is it the mapmaker who makes it appear to be shorter? Or is it the forbidden traveller that travels knowing the risks? Could it be that it is both or perhaps neither? Perception shifts. The objects of my soul broken, but repaired. Lost but found. Dark and light. Home comes and goes and we arrive at his doorstep. The sun begins to rise, bringing light to the shadows. The mystery is beginning to disappear. I say goodbye not knowing if it is the last time or the first. Walking home, my limbs ache. Home has never been so near, nor so far away. Purples, pinks and blues fill the sky. The stars slowly fade into the backround. Are they vanishing forever never to return or just hiding the truth? The same question goes for me. I have long forgotten who I am. The answers only clear when I'm with him. He intoxicates me, making everything clear, yet so foggy. He makes everything so right, but so wrong. Opening the door at last to the home I once knew, but since it has changed, I am silent. I stop and stand still. Silence is strange. I find myself missing the cold howling wind, for as once it was my enemy it had become my friend. And the house with it's betrayal was silent. And I too was silent. Silent in my defeat for I had lost the one I loved. He too, like my home was before, was so close but so far away. He was the one who saved me, but he was also the one who got me in trouble in the first place. Crawling into bed the light streaks into my room. Nothing is right and nothing is wrong. I sit up. Was it all a dream or was it real? And life. Is this life real or it too just a dream? A dream from which we shall never wake. Death, the eternal sleep for which I fear for those I love. Death is the awakening. For just as the light awakens darkness, death awakens life. So I sleep in my solemn death, only to wake to a dream. | |||||
| 3 of the lost - O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
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| 09:32pm 14/05/2002 | |||||
| Hey. I'm new to this community. My name is Courtney. I read some of the stuff in here and it was great. I'm glad someone else in this world thinks like me. I'll post some of my poetry and stuff later. Thanks. | |||||
| 1 of the lost - O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
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| 07:56pm 14/05/2002 | |||||
Standing there, in the midst of all of my friends, I am in the middle, disregarded and alone. I love them and I trust them.. I know they will always be there for me, Always but not now, when I am alone. Other lives, other friends Take over good intentions. I sit in the corner, with my constant friend, My journal, and cry. When the time is right, And they are free, My friends return to me, and love me.. But only when they have the time. If I desire human contact, I must make the call or drop a line.. Always the initiator, Never the nicely surprised receiver. In spite of having close friends, Who are dearest to me, I still am meant to feel Always alone. |
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| 3 of the lost - O Ye of Little Faith | |||||
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silentshadows |
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Companions Scrolls Timeline |
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| skip | ||
| 20 under and whaddaya get? | ||