|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The Tears of Longing and LossI miss her,
I miss her everyday that I'm away from her,
I miss the friendly hugs we once shared,
The loving and knowing smiles we once exchanged in between our classes.
If she could see the tears that now stain my alabaster cheeks,
She'd know of my feelings of loss at the distance between us,
I wish she'd know my feelings of longing for our paths to cross once again.
I wish to see her,
Face to face,
For my eyes to meet hers beyond a video screen,
For my eyes to no longer look at her with longing and pain,
I wish to look upon her with eyes that have no tears of loss and pain to blind them,
I wish to hold her with arms that no need to long for a caring embrace,
Most of all,
I wish for her to be by my side,
to be able to help me wipe away the tears that still trail down my face to this day,
I wish she were here in my friendly embrace,
So I could stop crying these tears of longing and loss.
The Love Of An Unappreciated Companion Chapter Four: Lawrence's Spirit Plain
(Warning! Blood! And that is all; thank you~!)
That night, as Richard started to dream, he dreamed of his and Lawrence's apartment. He was sitting on the couch in the living-room when he heard a loud scream coming from the washroom. So, he ran over to see what was going on, only to be met half way by Lawrence. Lawrence was in his red and black silk bathrobe, his hair still damp; dripping with soapy water. He looked very mad and Richard couldn't help but think that he was having some slight deja vu as Lawrence leaned against the wall.
Then, it hit him. 'That's right,' he thought,'this is the time that Lawrence got his foot cut up by my razor that I left in the shower!' That's when when he looked down to confirm it. And yes; there was a small pool of blood underneath the foot Dream Lawrence was holding up above the hard wood flooring. Richard sighed,'I wish I hadn't left my razor in the shower, then Lawrence wouldn't have gotten hurt,' he thou
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
Keep in Touch!
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