1. I see a king with many heads A hundred, maybe more Upon each brow, a midnight crown Of polished onyx ore I see a tarnished tower of A thousand twisted thrones Looming high above the shadow of The Realm of the Alone I see a tattered train of robe Like dragon's tail 'round treasure Winding, choking, filling up The tomb of promised pleasure I see two hundred eyes that shine like Needlepoints of red Sharpened with a hatred Which for centuries has fed Upon a diet of desire Born of jealousy and pride But it yields no satisfaction I see ribs show through the hide 2. Now comes a lamb with bloody head And carrying a scale Upon his brow a wounding crown Across his face, a veil I see him limping slowly Toward the tower of despair While a hundred serpent tongues Begin to taste the pregnant air I see the lamb collapse into The soot before the gates While a hundred hungry mouths Begin to grin and salivate I see the lamb's white body Turn to black beneath the ash Then the earth begins to
My every inhalation was a hyperventilation,
Tiny puffs of naught but nitrogen and dust;
But then you took my CO2, transformed it into something new,
A true blue atmosphere erupting through the crust.
Now my trachea awakes in lakes of oxygen that slakes
The violent thirst of all the tree roots in my chest;
I attempt to catch my breath, but it is sprinting far and fast,
Away from death into the fairest air at last.
When I look into your eyes,
A magic happenstance unfolds;
The whole of heaven’s gilded skies
Become a ballroom made of gold;
Planets don their finest raiment,
Bow and curtsy, take their places;
Stars tune up their instruments,
Hum “do re mi” with shining faces;
Timid moons let down their hair,
While asteroids form a grand cascade,
And passing comets slow to stare,
Upon this cosmic promenade;
And then begins the piece with zest;
Celestial bodies dash and whirl;
Thunder crashes; measures rest,
While ancient galaxies unfurl;
Blinking eyes and stretching kinks,
They can’t restrain their tapping toes;
Soon they too are
Medusa saw my heart
(I admit, I let her peek)
And now it’s cold and grey
With moss upon its face
I once held hands
With an ancient dream
Wore all of my organs
Out on my sleeve
Befriended the stars
Danced with the dawn
Launched my heart up
Into the clouds
But then came the tempest
Lightning and fear
Searing and shredding
My conductive veins
Smoking and charred
Burns settled to scars
On flesh less tender
Than before the storm
Then memories faded
And my heart shed
Its beetle shell armor
To laugh once more
Then a cycle was born
Cut. Heal.
Harden. Repeat.
More painful each time
That’s when I called
To invite her to tea
“B
O Lord of all assembled hosts,
Holy Ghost,
Author of every fiber of this tapestry called existence,
With insistence,
Cross the distance;
Unspool this tightly wound skein
In my chest,
The dead thread of the cold and unblessed;
Unplug the beating machine
That churns burning oil through my being;
Rip out that rudimentary, rickshaw heart,
And replace it with a work of art.
I may be alive, but I am not well,
Bound by my idea of justice,
But what do I know of this?
Dust seeps through my waxen flesh and into my bones,
Betraying how long I have stood here alone,
My pose never prone,
Enstoned in haughty, gaudy dress,
My body at rest;
But only as a
As they left Trollop town, and the jelly road subsequently changed back into cobblestone, Danzer vowed that he would never again take firm ground for granted.
Wodge had procured a faded and careworn roll of parchment from somewhere in his tailcoat and was scrutinizing it intensely, his narrow nose planted firmly in its middle. He muttered incoherently to himself, and every now and then he would accidentally wander off the road or trip over an uneven cobblestone. Each time, a low whistle would sound from Danzer's pocket as Chell stifled a mean laugh.
Fergus soon fell asleep and began to snore loudly, the sound amplified by the aco
The wind is howling. The winter is cold.
Deep in the woods, someone is waking up. He opens his eyes, but he cannot focus. He is still groggy from his long sleep. His head aches and his body is stiff.
Inside his home, it is dark and warm.
But outside, it is winter, and it is a bad time to awaken.
Snowflakes fall from the hazy sky, but their journey is hindered by the blanket of leaves above. And yet a few tiny crystals slip through the foliage and travel bravely onward without their comrades. A loud silence smothers all.
It is a bad time to awaken.
The cocoon is barely visible against the white snow. It is nestled amo
4. The Magician
Trollop Town turned out to be a squishy affair. As they approached it, the cobblestone abruptly ended, giving way to spongy surface of a mild greenish hue. As Danzer stepped carefully onto it, he found that his foot sunk in slightly. He took another step, and found himself remarkably reminded of the one time he had gotten a chance to play on his neighbor's treasured trampoline. Walking on this road was very much akin to walking on that trampoline (which he had never quite mastered), and so he nearly lost his balance more than twice as he walked springily towards the town.
"I declare, what is this undomesticated mat
3. The Turtle
"So what's your name?" the Flute asked.
"Uh Danzer. Danzer Lestrange."
"Aha, so you're a dancer? Neat."
"No! Danzer. Zer. With a z."
"Oh. So you can't dance?"
"Well, I mean, I dunno. I guess I never tried it "
Danzer was clambering over rocks and ducking under fallen trees, following the river as it winded down the mountainside. The flute was in the pocket of his cargo shorts, her "right" end (the end with the mouthpiece,
2. The Flute
Danzer came up spluttering, thankful for the first time in his life that his mom had made him take swimming lessons. He paddled towards the shore and dragged himself onto a slope of small, smooth stones. Looking back, he saw that he was by a river basin at the bottom of a tall cliff from which a drainpipe protruded, high up. An impossible volume of water was spewing from the drainpipe and waterfalling into the deep pool below. The pool was surrounded by pebbled rocks on all sides except for one where the river forged bravely onward.
"Excuse me."
Danzer was so focused
1. I see a king with many heads A hundred, maybe more Upon each brow, a midnight crown Of polished onyx ore I see a tarnished tower of A thousand twisted thrones Looming high above the shadow of The Realm of the Alone I see a tattered train of robe Like dragon's tail 'round treasure Winding, choking, filling up The tomb of promised pleasure I see two hundred eyes that shine like Needlepoints of red Sharpened with a hatred Which for centuries has fed Upon a diet of desire Born of jealousy and pride But it yields no satisfaction I see ribs show through the hide 2. Now comes a lamb with bloody head And carrying a scale Upon his brow a wounding crown Across his face, a veil I see him limping slowly Toward the tower of despair While a hundred serpent tongues Begin to taste the pregnant air I see the lamb collapse into The soot before the gates While a hundred hungry mouths Begin to grin and salivate I see the lamb's white body Turn to black beneath the ash Then the earth begins to
My every inhalation was a hyperventilation,
Tiny puffs of naught but nitrogen and dust;
But then you took my CO2, transformed it into something new,
A true blue atmosphere erupting through the crust.
Now my trachea awakes in lakes of oxygen that slakes
The violent thirst of all the tree roots in my chest;
I attempt to catch my breath, but it is sprinting far and fast,
Away from death into the fairest air at last.
When I look into your eyes,
A magic happenstance unfolds;
The whole of heaven’s gilded skies
Become a ballroom made of gold;
Planets don their finest raiment,
Bow and curtsy, take their places;
Stars tune up their instruments,
Hum “do re mi” with shining faces;
Timid moons let down their hair,
While asteroids form a grand cascade,
And passing comets slow to stare,
Upon this cosmic promenade;
And then begins the piece with zest;
Celestial bodies dash and whirl;
Thunder crashes; measures rest,
While ancient galaxies unfurl;
Blinking eyes and stretching kinks,
They can’t restrain their tapping toes;
Soon they too are
Medusa saw my heart
(I admit, I let her peek)
And now it’s cold and grey
With moss upon its face
I once held hands
With an ancient dream
Wore all of my organs
Out on my sleeve
Befriended the stars
Danced with the dawn
Launched my heart up
Into the clouds
But then came the tempest
Lightning and fear
Searing and shredding
My conductive veins
Smoking and charred
Burns settled to scars
On flesh less tender
Than before the storm
Then memories faded
And my heart shed
Its beetle shell armor
To laugh once more
Then a cycle was born
Cut. Heal.
Harden. Repeat.
More painful each time
That’s when I called
To invite her to tea
“B
O Lord of all assembled hosts,
Holy Ghost,
Author of every fiber of this tapestry called existence,
With insistence,
Cross the distance;
Unspool this tightly wound skein
In my chest,
The dead thread of the cold and unblessed;
Unplug the beating machine
That churns burning oil through my being;
Rip out that rudimentary, rickshaw heart,
And replace it with a work of art.
I may be alive, but I am not well,
Bound by my idea of justice,
But what do I know of this?
Dust seeps through my waxen flesh and into my bones,
Betraying how long I have stood here alone,
My pose never prone,
Enstoned in haughty, gaudy dress,
My body at rest;
But only as a
The wind is howling. The winter is cold.
Deep in the woods, someone is waking up. He opens his eyes, but he cannot focus. He is still groggy from his long sleep. His head aches and his body is stiff.
Inside his home, it is dark and warm.
But outside, it is winter, and it is a bad time to awaken.
Snowflakes fall from the hazy sky, but their journey is hindered by the blanket of leaves above. And yet a few tiny crystals slip through the foliage and travel bravely onward without their comrades. A loud silence smothers all.
It is a bad time to awaken.
The cocoon is barely visible against the white snow. It is nestled amo
1. The Drainpipe
Danzer Lestrange was a boy, and he was not quite as unusual as his name implied. In fact, he was a fairly normal boy (as far as most normal boy standards applied). Twelve years of age, he had fluffy brown hair and a mischievous smile. He lived in a small house in a small neighborhood in the smallish state of Pennsylvania.
He was an only child and had fairly normal parents. Unfortunately, his fairly-normal parents were equipped with the fairly-normal issues that come with fairly-normal parents. They were selfish. They fought with each other. They fought with themselves. They fought with Danzer most of all.
It was a
The world looked different through its eyes. A swirl of blues and grays. Seeing what it saw, one might think that it was underwater, but no, there were buildings and hills and streets.
And it hated water.
Out of habit, it scanned for heat, for those orange-red globs that represented life. Once, they had been everywhere, back in the early days of the hunt. And now the world was cold, blue and grey. Lifeless. It had been for years.
It stalked through the village, crushing a paper lantern that bounced under its feet like a tumbleweed. The intricate
Lights - Reborn and FINISHED by Felixavier, literature
Literature
Lights - Reborn and FINISHED
I have a story to tell you, of a world not so far away from our own, but vastly different. It is a place called Dounthur, and it truly exists. Oh yes, under our very feet. Deep down, down deep; beneath the anthills, far beneath the mole tunnels, and even farther beneath the bat-filled caverns, and ever-so-much-farther beneath those unspoiled mineral rivers flowing secretly through deep layers of rock
It is a subterranean world, and (when this story took place) it had a problem.
The lights were out. Had been for a very long time.
Hello, to anyone who still might follow me and stumble upon this :)
I've clearly been absent for a long time. I'd like to say that it's because I went on a year-long mission trip to the Amazon jungle, or that I got married a little over a year ago, or that I had my first child a little over a month ago. While those things certainly do put a damper on a fellow's free time, I'm of the firm belief that we ALWAYS end up finding time for the things we really care about. Despite being the only working member of my small family (40 hours/week bringing home that bacon), being active in my church (leading worship and a small youth group), and taking
So... Thanksgiving has come and gone, and Christmas music is in the air. It has only been one day and I already have at least 6 Christmas tunes stuck fast in my head, and they ain't gettin' out of there anytime soon!
It has been nice to be at home and have a break from hectic school life. I only have about a week and a half longer to stick it out and then I'm done until spring, woohoo! I'm really looking forward to that break to catch up on much needed sleep and get some work done on Flightless.
I hope everyone's holidays are going well ^^
-Felix