|Human nature is a very varying topic and can be inferred inn various ways as well. It is basically depicting the same human nature.|
|A thought that occurred during a conversation and a resulting work.|
|A spur of inspiration led me to write this work. It was actually written in like five minutes so I cannot say that it will be the most amazing work but I like it as it is.|
~~~ Thank you for reading! ~~~
Lesson RevisedWhat is sweeter than a lieLesson Revised by NotenSMSK
that implies that you’re
all one needs? Or the berries that
numb your senses with sweetness,
then numb you forever…
Not all sweets are healthy
not all that glitters is gold.
And that is a lesson of life -
Dishonest I amDishonesty has been, in words apt for it, describedDishonest I am by NotenSMSK
as a fail of etiquettes, of ethics, of manners inscribed.
For to be honest, is to speak of the heart through one's own mind;
to untie the chains that so exaggeratingly bind.
But when I feel pain, or sorrow, or happiness, I set my quill down,
for me to compose an orchestra of truth, in which I myself drown.
However, so cursed is the quill, for it yields to my mind, not heart
what it wishes to produce, is not a recreation of emotions, but an art.
I have tried, again and yet again, to teach it what art is, to coax
yet listens not - stubborn quill, it believes my words are a hoax!
Thus all I create are analogies, replications of my mind
pieces, shards of a broken glass case in which I’m confined.
I envy those, whose quills listen to their heart’s sound plea
They are honest and free, a mere abstraction for me.
Thus forgive me those, who are people of trust and respect
for I am a man with the noose of dishonesty around my neck.
this disease i've named youi swallowed those pillsthis disease i've named you by slowlysailing
like you said
and now your intoxication
weaves through my veins.
this can't be love
because there is no medicine
to create or cure it
that would be too simple.
i'm hallucinating lust from your lips
and tearing expectation from my heart
to shove both of them
right back down my throat
where they corrode and ravish
for without those mirages
i cannot breathe
i need us to be real
i need to escape this addiction
Commission Prices.Commission info~Commission Prices. by xSeekingSolace
Sorry if they're to0 high...
Flat Color: 20
[Black Rose] Anthro [Black Rose]
[Bullet; Black]Sketch: 20 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Lineart: 23 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Flat Color: 25 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Shaded/Shined: 30 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Sketch: 30 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Lineart: 35 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Flat Color: 40 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Shaded/Shined: 45 [Points]
[Black Rose] Anime [Black Rose]
[Bullet; Black]Sketch: 35 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Lineart: 40 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Flat Color: 45 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Shaded/Shined: 50 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Sketch: 50 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Lineart: 55 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Flat Color: 60 [Points]
[Bullet; Black]Shaded/Shined: 65 [Points]
[Skull and Crossbones] I will not do... [Skull and Crossbones]
Writing On the WaterWriting On the Water by CrisisOfConscience
I write secrets atop the surface of the water
This pond is my journal
The fish within it are my witnesses
They alone know the intents behind each of my words
My finger is a death-ray; silent but efficient
against all my deepest-felt notions of humanity and faith
It swirls out spells without a somatic component to them
Change has come to the shore of this little nook in the woods
I write down my fears on each ripple
They fade into infinity
Becoming none from many
Becoming mythology rather than substance
The sky above my mad errand is fading to night
Stars are trying to peek over my shoulder
The leaves on the wind attempt to tap me on the head
hoping to distract me long enough for those stars to read my secrets
Like my secrets across the surface of the water
I am fading
Like a loss of hope when faced with overwhelming force
My great work becomes insubstantial
The water continues to move
Subsuming, absorbing all that I was intending to make of it
The best laid plans are orphaned notions
crooked kissesAn old man sits at a bus stop,
his ragged clothes soaked
through to his creaky bones.
He grips his beggars cup
tightly, but instead of coins it
overflows with rain water.
Passersby pass by without
giving a second glance, brief
cases clenched in swinging
hands, Bluetooth plugged into
their ears. A little girl dressed
in pink polka dots prances
to his side. Her mouth moves
quickly and his takes time to
form words. She giggles,
drops coins into his cup, and
gives him a kiss on the cheek.
He laughs a crooked grin.
Shame on MeI thought
that I could think my way
out of a brain defect.
That I could unlearn
the way my neurons fire
and the synapses wince
when someone raises their voice
that when he told me to trust
that it could be true.
That I could learn
the way that vocal chords moan
and groan, and growl.
When someone tells me to believe
to be myself
that might mean they meant it.
|My purpose over his is to make my main group TheCritiquables into a Super Group and simply to be able to give points to people. I don't think I will be getting a premium again since while it is good - I think that I have other things to do so. |
Criminal Master Mind in
If you are donating for a group do note me about it!
I hope to see more people donating, of course those who can. There are no compulsions, just hoping for the best!
Next time - remember meTime seems to have been a reminder of how long it has been - it doesn't register as a feeling. I don't feel it has been long. But I know.
And my appearance is changing, it's daunting and more of what is considered mature. For I have matured. Or is that so?
And I hug them, my hug is warm and promising and loving, for it is a true hug. I say "Where have you been? Long have you been gone!"
They hug back and answer but I am unable to listen. For sad it is that I am the one asking. When I was the one gone.