Day 36 - Save the Dragon, Kill the Princess by Meterious, literature
Literature
Day 36 - Save the Dragon, Kill the Princess
She's been stolen; she's gone, she's been whisked far away,
Taken by a dress wearing evil, during the height of the day,
With pitter-patter feet, and a crooked crown made of gold,
She killed all my guards, how could her heart be so cold,
She took my sweet dragon, from out under my nose,
As I reclined in my chair, for a quick midday doze,
But now that I've woken, my situations become dire,
That cruel-hearted princess, I'll burn her with fire.
I'll clad myself in armour and ready my sword,
As I head towards the princess's ill-gotten hoard,
Climbing up the mountain, nothing will stop me,
Now that I to think of it, she still has my Pony!
I'll re
Chezzy-Am on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/chezzy-am/art/The-Maidens-Mirth-Crowned-550051821Chezzy-Am
Monsters lurk underneath your bed,
concealed in darkness as they creep
and wait for you to fall asleep.
Their growling moans fill you with dread—
they stir beneath and gnash their teeth,
feeding on fears inside your head.
Be still, my love, and do not sleep;
monsters lurk underneath your bed.
Makeup painted across my face,
they tell me I am beautiful.
Place the layers upon a base;
makeup painted across my face.
Liquids and powders held in place,
the image seen is pitiful—
makeup painted across my face…
they tell me I am beautiful.
A Death In Fall, Dreaming Of Spring by SedahLiah, literature
Literature
A Death In Fall, Dreaming Of Spring
Spurred on by the loss of Spring,
Across the shallow hills and spots
Where awful things could sprawl,
The calculating fawns find their footing
For the Fall amid the grayish yellow-brown.
Stalling wind begins to sprawl,
The shifting snow is loose footing
To ones that still have their spots;
Younglings pink-bellied, barely brown
Along the sides dream still of Spring.
Amid the shrieking wind the cunning fox spots
The lot of timid fawns, and brown
Eyes glare a second - scanning future footing
For the quickest path from which to spring
And feast, and how wide its jaws may sprawl.
A driver pushes surely through the fog, his footing
Forceful on t
Spirits? Strange: they race
Through brain-canyons, ride blood-falls;
Wilds of the mind join lands
Already thoroughly tilled,
Sown with bushels of Latin names.
Flight-or-flight, lust, love,
Maybe veneration (?) are
As studied, well-defined states
With borders diplomats
Mostly agree on, in peacetime.
But when war starts, and
Lead winds tear up let us say
The hippocampus' main line,
Watch: a star-nosed mole peeps
Gleefully, out at Jeff's eyes.
"What joy to whiffle
One's nose in this warmth! Now please,
Can one of you gentlemen
Point me to the nearest
Flower-bed? Any red tulips?"
DFC 2015 Day 3 - Threads by classic-poet, literature
Literature
DFC 2015 Day 3 - Threads
The threads are wearing thin,
From chafing for too long...
From trying to be strong...
And that's when it begins.
The threads are wearing thin.
Running stitches - ruses,
They're makeshift excuses.
Just watch the spool reel in;
The threads are wearing thin.
Unravel, fray and tear,
Till it's too much to bear.
Exposed and tender skin,
The threads are wearing thin.