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Born or given in secret to a chosen few-
Her life, already laid out before her, her story,
Written in the depths of the secreted history
Of her past.
Fated to be the warrior maiden, Valkyrie-
One of a fabled story.
The beginning of the tale came with
the arrival of a stranger- cloaked in gray,
Who bore in his arms a child, a paradox-
For one so different.
Begging for a home for the child, nothing more,
The family agreed, questions an apparent forgotten
Lo' when they remembered-
There was not a soul to ask-
For that soul had already vanished.
Raised a life of gentle brutality-
A lady and man-
Indulged, punished- raised by the sword,
'tis a paradox though- a dress wielding a sword.
Taught the dance of blades-
FreeFlow - The Cold StairwellAs I sit here- Oh jeez.
Cold floor. As I was saying,
I have to, no feel the need to
turn and stare out the window-
oddly, the same dreariness reflected
outside and in.
The metal of the window bars-
my, no, A prison, doesn't it seem?
The shadows of the window bars-
break the reflections of the lifeless skies,
upon the tiled floor.
There is nothing in the cold stairwell.
Here, you are nothing, you feel nothing-
but the invading chill;
Here, you aren't going to be anything, you hear nothing-
but the echo of retreating voices,
The fading imprint of human emotion-
in this emotionless world.
The pattern of dirty stairs-
Some going up, others down,
If I Had.I wished tonight for a window ledge,
Perhaps to look out upon the falling snows-
Perhaps for reasons other than my own-
But, I wished indeed for a window ledge,
To stand, and scatter my troubles
To the winsome, lonesome wind.
And if tonight, I had my window ledge,
It wouldn't be to look out and watch-
Nor to listen to the winsome, lonesome wind-
Oh if tonight, there was a ledge-
I'd sit, almost contemplatively and whisper to
the silent, sympathetic snows.
Perhaps in awhile, if I had my ledge-
Both the winsome lonesome wind,
And the silent sympathetic snows,
Will have carried away my worries-
And my ledge- my dear, dear companionate ledge-
I will have bidden you farewell,
And tumbled down,
To the harsh, unforgiving ground.
Nothing But the SkyThe roaring of a F6F Hellcat filled the air above the small airstrip just outside of San Diego. A low roar, followed by an alto whine followed the compact machine through the skies. The agile black wings stood out in the sky- ducking and swerving in the mock dog-fighting patterns practiced by most of the young pilots his age.
The ones that were left, anyhow.
Kicking up the power, he smiled, just a little, as the plane jerked forward beneath him. His Cat. The tarmac flew by as his speed rose, thirty, forty, fifty miles an hour, until the nose rose up, tilting him towards the sun- towards sheer exhilaration. He tipped the throttle sideways, looking out at the cockpit below, at what hed just left behind. His plane shuddered with him, slowly rising to the altitude of about four thousand feet. Time to play a game.
Alright boys,came the sergeants voice over the static radio, Form. tion.. Alpha.. C.py?
Copy! came six different
Sisar ValtameriA brief but lasting momentary breeze was the happenstance-
Or, maybe perchance it was the glimpse of a lone pine, standing
abreast with but one other against the blue-grey sky?
The blood of the wild doth run true, indeed, my blood runs not blue-
Nay aristocratic, but instead the colors of wild- greens, oceanic hues,
wild and free, never tamed- aye, tis true, my blood isna aristocratic,
for it once bled with the ocean- as the ocean bled with me.
Curiosity it was, when mine eyes found that treasure, lying half ensconced in sand-
And shall we say, Reader, that curiosity is said to have killed the cat; Well,
curiosity did naught to me.
And so it was, mine blood flowed freely-
Mine brother- nay sister?
Ran beckoned, and took from me, or I gave unto her instead-
Sisters we, our bloods together, she and I, I and her-
My blood has she, a piece of ocean spirit has I.
It was the other day in fact, when I thought of her- mine sister-
thought about being enfolded again, within salty spray,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More