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See now, the spiked shadows creeping up under, into my eyes.
Dipping into the blue - and beyond, deeper down the slime-slick trail to you.
No, my love, stay close now. Stay close - I cannot drag these chains behind, I must be tethered, undefined. Edge of the forest, edge of the heart - watching and weighting ‘til the green tint part.
Smells - inexplicable, dearest, they no longer matter - curl tight against the brick, swapping cool lace for the flare of the wick. And here I stay, crouched up, cut muddied and weak - the salves, the slaves, leave the wounds to weep.
Neversleep.
Neversleep.
Yet the vines grow on, around me stretch and swell. Toil and toll the bone-wrought bell, sending fragile shoots to smile about my half-latch hell. Your eyes burn out among the trees, brown by fresh-cut, elm-hewn breeze - bittersweet, a breath away, detached by wind-swept mental sway.
On this hard-bake rock I bleed, again alone in familiar land,
The Rider’s cape and eager seed, rusted bonds grind the stone to sand.
He tips his hat and mounts you up, mocking eyes dripping horse chestnut sap, switch-back promise tops it all. the closer you creep, the further you fall ;; the soothing, grinding piston sweat, the flesh-won, half-floggéd debt. I knew it, w***e, I knew the first time we met.
But it’s not your fault. Blossom hearts are fragile gifts, placed to tend the screaming rifts - the burning lashes, tepid life ashes. You are the innocent, the pure, pale hand forced by dark, sharp claw. Through the forest, wood stem grows, thrown to the desert, the Hunter knows.
He forced your hand, like he forced your legs apart - forced the blade right into my heart, and cut, deep, around the bloom-stem start. Around the whitest, loving core, around your untainted, giving, pure - pure as water, pure as life, cutting me away with the poisoned knife.
And left me here, alone. Around my eyes the shadow grows.
As I stare back, past the forest of your soul, past the chains to what remains - our perfect home among the green, our fragile haven, you the queen. Cut away, rotted back, his creeping vines widen the crack - shifting up our tended track, his bloated lies fill what he said you lack.
On he plays, lazy notes through lazy days - drifting through the trees, ripe on taunting, rancid breeze. Spreading, slowly, what once was mine - is there anything left of what I left behind? His corrupted domain, and you the core, as he nails you slowly to the floor.
My loving trait, smashed clean from the wall.
He grins, thrusts and I wonder if I ever had you at all.
Dipping into the blue - and beyond, deeper down the slime-slick trail to you.
No, my love, stay close now. Stay close - I cannot drag these chains behind, I must be tethered, undefined. Edge of the forest, edge of the heart - watching and weighting ‘til the green tint part.
Smells - inexplicable, dearest, they no longer matter - curl tight against the brick, swapping cool lace for the flare of the wick. And here I stay, crouched up, cut muddied and weak - the salves, the slaves, leave the wounds to weep.
Neversleep.
Neversleep.
Yet the vines grow on, around me stretch and swell. Toil and toll the bone-wrought bell, sending fragile shoots to smile about my half-latch hell. Your eyes burn out among the trees, brown by fresh-cut, elm-hewn breeze - bittersweet, a breath away, detached by wind-swept mental sway.
On this hard-bake rock I bleed, again alone in familiar land,
The Rider’s cape and eager seed, rusted bonds grind the stone to sand.
He tips his hat and mounts you up, mocking eyes dripping horse chestnut sap, switch-back promise tops it all. the closer you creep, the further you fall ;; the soothing, grinding piston sweat, the flesh-won, half-floggéd debt. I knew it, w***e, I knew the first time we met.
But it’s not your fault. Blossom hearts are fragile gifts, placed to tend the screaming rifts - the burning lashes, tepid life ashes. You are the innocent, the pure, pale hand forced by dark, sharp claw. Through the forest, wood stem grows, thrown to the desert, the Hunter knows.
He forced your hand, like he forced your legs apart - forced the blade right into my heart, and cut, deep, around the bloom-stem start. Around the whitest, loving core, around your untainted, giving, pure - pure as water, pure as life, cutting me away with the poisoned knife.
And left me here, alone. Around my eyes the shadow grows.
As I stare back, past the forest of your soul, past the chains to what remains - our perfect home among the green, our fragile haven, you the queen. Cut away, rotted back, his creeping vines widen the crack - shifting up our tended track, his bloated lies fill what he said you lack.
On he plays, lazy notes through lazy days - drifting through the trees, ripe on taunting, rancid breeze. Spreading, slowly, what once was mine - is there anything left of what I left behind? His corrupted domain, and you the core, as he nails you slowly to the floor.
My loving trait, smashed clean from the wall.
He grins, thrusts and I wonder if I ever had you at all.
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Being a fan of rhyming things, I just absolutely loved that. You're fast becoming my favourite story writer on the forums.
Rickoss wrote:
> That was lurvley. And long. hur hur
>
> Only trouble I found was that the rhyming kind of detached me from
> the plot on a few occasions, and it felt like I was reading random
> words that fit.
Ooh, that's not good.
> Still, got that same feeling of worrying for your health as I always
> do, so it's classic FFF material.
yey?
It wasn't that worrying, surely. Just a simple case of love lost, perhaps a love you never even had.
> That was lurvley. And long. hur hur
>
> Only trouble I found was that the rhyming kind of detached me from
> the plot on a few occasions, and it felt like I was reading random
> words that fit.
Ooh, that's not good.
> Still, got that same feeling of worrying for your health as I always
> do, so it's classic FFF material.
yey?
It wasn't that worrying, surely. Just a simple case of love lost, perhaps a love you never even had.
Delicious :)
That was good.
Pity you had to force it into a story structure though. It would have been much more at home as a poem.
Pity you had to force it into a story structure though. It would have been much more at home as a poem.
That was lurvley. And long. hur hur
Only trouble I found was that the rhyming kind of detached me from the plot on a few occasions, and it felt like I was reading random words that fit.
Still, got that same feeling of worrying for your health as I always do, so it's classic FFF material.
Only trouble I found was that the rhyming kind of detached me from the plot on a few occasions, and it felt like I was reading random words that fit.
Still, got that same feeling of worrying for your health as I always do, so it's classic FFF material.
Jees!
I used to watch the 10 minute previews when I was like 14.
Then I got the Internet.
I used to watch the 10 minute previews when I was like 14.
Then I got the Internet.
Paradox: wrote:
> Because I saw this thing on Men and Motors...
While staying at my mates in Scotland I watched some of his Sky TV, (I don't have it), and I saw something called "Babestation". Now, I'm a bloke, so you know I'm going to see what it is. I'm sure you know what it is. It's a few topless gyrating women and a presenter saying "call em, they're well orney! Well worff the £1.50 per minit!"
> Because I saw this thing on Men and Motors...
While staying at my mates in Scotland I watched some of his Sky TV, (I don't have it), and I saw something called "Babestation". Now, I'm a bloke, so you know I'm going to see what it is. I'm sure you know what it is. It's a few topless gyrating women and a presenter saying "call em, they're well orney! Well worff the £1.50 per minit!"
FinalFantasyFanatic wrote:
> English_Bloke wrote:
> >Take that how you wish.
>
> And how many times have you said that?
A few. I usually say, "just say when".
> English_Bloke wrote:
> >Take that how you wish.
>
> And how many times have you said that?
A few. I usually say, "just say when".
Film it?
Because I saw this thing on Men and Motors...
Because I saw this thing on Men and Motors...
English_Bloke wrote:
>Take that how you wish.
And how many times have you said that?
>Take that how you wish.
And how many times have you said that?
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