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Sound of Madness (Tomorrow Might Be Kinder)I'm sorry
I can't be perfect.
The sounds of madness
drown out my reality.
Threatening to overwhelm.
Sorrow weighs my shoulders down
and trouble haunts my mind.
I now can see ahead.
Often I wonder why I try,
hoping for an end.
But with you, it all fades.
I'm no longer the Mad Hatter
trapped in the world of the sane.
The present might not last,
and tomorrow might be kinder.
But with you, I can dare hope again.
Prologue - After The FallRuins of a city, Unknown, Earth, July 2020
She stood on the hill in front of the desolate ruins, ash falling like snow. The dying sunlight illuminated her eyes, the moans of the dying a steady monotone in the background. A single man stood next to her, silently taking the horrifying image of the ruined city. The buildings loomed like silent witnesses to the ghastly devastation of war. Bodies were stacked like logs or seated in the remains of the cars and trucks of a previous life, but all were rotting; leaving nothing but decaying corpses and sickening stenches.
“So this is it,” he stated, his voice almost quiet enough to be lost in the slight breeze and moans, “This is the end of the world.
“Sadly, yes,” she replied just as quietly, “this is it. And it’s entirely my fault.”
“This?! You caused this?!” his voice rose above the deathly moans. “How could you have caused all of this?!”
“I was the one who s
HonorThey say that
honor never dies.
That it's the only good thing
that come out of war.
But if you stand
amongst the ashes of the battle,
of a million dead souls
and ask the ghosts if honor matters,
their silence is your answer.
The Light That Never Comes (A Life Lived Alone)The day draws to a close.
Just as sunless
than the night before.
Chasing the moon
to find the sun.
Waiting for a light
that never shows.
Sorrow haunts my every step.
Love just can't be found.
So I've given up on it.
Maybe then will I be happy.
The Brightest Star (The Fire Still Burns)The morning light
of a brand new dawn
will hide the darker days
that have past by,
The sun will shine again.
Flying across these blazing skies.
The fire still burns inside,
this fire that pushes me on.
The brightest star of all.
I have gone through hell
and came out stronger than ever.
And one day I'll be happy again.
With You AlwaysThe darkness comes from all around.
You're scared of the unknown.
The world abandons you,
No one cares,
you keep telling yourself,
if you disappeared.
When the weight of this life bears down
the stars have fallen
much like your tears.
I don't want to
light a candle in memory of you.
Striving to save you.
Pulling you back from the edge
Trying to stop the bleeding.
Reading between the lines
of the tattered notebook of your life.
From life to death,
I am with you always.
Never Have We SeenTo myself I've stayed true,
and I've been bloodied
and broken for it.
All hope seems lost.
The darkness of night
Never have I seen love.
Never have I seen compassion.
Everyone is so pre-occupied
with their own life to try
The rise and fall
of all I am and all I will be
stands before me.
How much pain
must I go through?
How many more
How many more
Just to find the end to the pain
that I so desperately long for?
One Last MinuteI saw the hell in your eyes.
The world beating down on you.
I tried to do something, anything
to save you.
But I failed you.
Everything I did.
It only made it worse.
I was becoming
just like all the other monsters.
pushing you to the edge.
And I'm sorry.
I wasn't enough to save you.
And now I'm on my knees begging
for just one last minute.
The Darkest SunsetEverything is in a
The world is going black.
Can we give it one more shot?
Has all hope been lost?
Why does it have to be this painful
just to make it through?
The sun is setting on this life.
The darkest sunset
I've seen so far.
I don't know if I can hold on,
Though I will try,
For just one more day.
She's a WriterShe sits at her desk
Her headphones in,
The world shut out.
She bleeds for others
As words fly from
Her mind to her fingertips.
She stares at the screen,
At every little comment,
The good and the painful.
She forms her emotions
Into books and poems
To throw away the hurt.
She's a writer,
And her best weapons
Are her mind and her pen.
BetrayedI won't swallow your lies anymore
I can't stand your presence
You used to be my friend
But you're nothing to me now
And soon you'll be
Another bad memory
I won't be able to forget
Do you know what it feels like...To be lonely?
To be bullied?
To be called ugly?
To be unattractive?
To be compared to other women?
To be considered unnormal?
To be unloved even though you give love to others?
To face issues that you don't in reality know how to fix?
To think that your goal you're reaching for, is unattainable?
To feel like the cause of many people's problems?
To be held up on a high pedistal that you can't get down off of?
To realize that people don't like you based on your personailty?
To at no avail, keep up your happy and upbeatness for others?
To look at happy couples and wish that you had someone to be happy with?
To stop fighting for anything anymore?
You AgainOh, it's you again. I must admit,
The crooning has
The lies have been
And mine are like swords
It's just you and me
In this sick game
I can tell
You're pulling me in,
And I don't have
To pull you down
Sometimes, I've had
And all I see is
Then it became
I don't know
How to escape
Dark to see.
And all I can
Wonder at every
Turn I make
When can it be
flower petalsi know that when we touch
that my energy is yours
that we are like flowers
because at our roots
we need water and love,
we reach tall as we can
to get to the sun
and stretch our leaves
to welcome it all;
and when we touch
i know that our skin isn’t skin
too soft for this world
when it grows rough with gravel
so i invite you back to our bed,
soft with the earth
where we can lie gently
and sleep until it is time
By the LakeSat beneath a Christmas tree in late-March.
The ground is damp but pliant, it pretends to accept me
and then sneaks its cold fingers through my clothes
to dampen my spirits further with its chilly undertones.
I stare at the river, plump with soon-to-be April showers.
It does roly-polys over the smallest of obstacles and goes on.
It reminds me of what I should be able to do.
It runs as I grind to a full stop, and consider my life sentence.
The sky is blue; not like me, but bright and crisped;
Its been blurred by an amateur around the edges with cloud
But they don’t threaten me with rain just yet so, for now, we are friends.
The sun is missing. No one knows where she is.
She could be dead, by now. At the bottom of the lake.
Could have slunk there in a midday sunset.
She could of drowned her sorrows in the ricocheting tides
of a man made dam and its loosened throat. She could be.
She is not, she is hiding.
The sun hides from the world but leaves a blue sheen behind
to let everyone k
Reasons We Love Homestuck“Reasons we love H O M E S T U C K.”
Why do this love this web comic, you ask?
Maybe it’s just the way the fandom rolls,
or how mean Andrew Hussie trolls.
It could possibly be Eridan’s accent (WWyeh?)
or even Feferi’s keyboard trident. (---E)
Some people say it’s Equius’ broken bows and arrows, ( D →)
but what about Nepeta’s meows and roleplays? (:33 <)
We really do love Sollux’s lisp,
and also when Karkat’s pissed. (FUCKASS!)
Including Kanaya's fabulous lipstick,
it's also Rose's amazing magic.
How about when Dave starts rapping
and Jade Harley begins napping?
We love Vriska’s eight-pupiled eye,
and how John is such an adorable guy.
Or maybe it’s with all the sprites
or how prospit glows bright.
Can’t forget about Derse’s darkness
or Gamzee and all his soberness. (WHOOPS.)
There’s also this thing with Tav and stairs
which he t
ConfrontationI shed a tear
The damage will be severe
Run away in fear?
I'll fight until the coast is clear!
An artist (revised)
Staring blankly at a white sheet of paper
Can truly be an artist’s worst nightmare
An artist’s duty as its shaper
Their thoughts up in the clouds somewhere
Looking for bits of inspiration
Their eyes searching the skies
Nothing can break their concentration
Nothing can blow out the passion in their eyes
Being an artist does not always mean you are skilled
You do not need to be Picasso or Bach
It means you want to see your dream fulfilled
And that you will never give in to an art block
Anthem of My Dying DayAlone I have sat.
Consumed by my darkness.
Singing of a death
that has long since passed.
Wondering where it all went wrong.
Why I could only find sadness.
Today I realized the truth.
And I can't believe
that I didn't see this before.
I was listening to the lies of the devil.
Believing what he said.
Thought it to be true.
That I was worthless.
That I didn't deserve forgiveness.
That I didn't belong up there.
That He didn't want me.
They say that
it's the darkest before the dawn.
But when all you know is darkness,
it's hard to see the light.
But now I see.
I see where this path
has taken me,
and where it will take me,
if I follow the lies.
And now it's time
to exorcise the demons in my heart.
It's time to shine the light
where it hasn't been in years.
This is the anthem of my dying day,
and the joyous chorus of a new life.
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More