now give me some inspiration or something


12.29.2k7three days have passed and not an utterance ive heard the Dogs have stayed their tongues the silence consuming all thought12.29.2k7
no whimper nor snarl no yipping or bark they sit and wait for reasons i am not sure
The Dogs of Twisted Tongue not resting or wearied but calm and quiet beaded eyes scour the horizon
the setting sun stands them to guard anxiously pacing and pawing treading circles on my land unceasing until the sun breaks to dawn
amidst a revere is when i understood it all
the Dogs have nothing to howl a


12.21.2k7The Dogs of Twisted Tongue are on the warpath again and this time they've come with malaise to my home the pack of mangy cur sniffing and snarling scruff and tail standing tall matted fur and bloodshot eyes12.21.2k7
they are looking for a feast
for fear of disappointment i provided for each of them their weight in mutton snapping jaws lapping tongues devouring the meal
and they return each night for twelve days on to satiate their hungry bellies
on the break of the thirteenth day the muscidae arrive
destruction is imminent


11.08.2k7"another year wasted"11.08.2k7
she said
another year indeed
but really, no really
what's just one more year?
its only money and time and energy and emotions and relationships and failures and promises and lies and sweat and worry and commitments and faith and dreams and fading memories and forgotten faces and ringing ears and sotted eyes and gasoline and smiles and compassion and fatigue and early mornings and broken hearts and bruises and headaches and shattered glass and black coffee and highway mile markers and green grass and cracked pave


Sentrinelthe gates have been opened little demons dart and dash around the periphery Rion stands on wanton guard and i proceed with caution to our mother's hanging gardens fourteen souls across the rampart they daren't scale our walls Typhon's son lays in wait to the east calling out to the gibbous moonSentrinel
Halcyon cries the "all clear"
apple blossoms in full bloom
10.16.2k7


Kisses Pt. IIShe never knew about the arsenal I had at my disposal. I suppose it was a common mistake for the times, with a typical love starved girl who had survived the coming of age brought about by an unrelenting bombardment of advertisement and social combustion telling her of the joys brought about with the forfeit of one’s body and heart to another member of an entire generation brought up with a single piece of common knowledge: they were the lost boys of history. There was no great battle to define them. No fantastic stories to tell to the grandkids which would someday grace the lands which remain fertile in the ever increasing apathy of its guesKisses Pt. II


alienated.9.10.04 - Alienated- by SLPalienated.
And I rage Against The confines Of Their expectations Toward My state Of Just being.
Their
Eyes slide My Way as I Speak with My Hands while No Voice comes.
Feels Like I Am An alien In Their midst As Pictures spill From My hands.
Their Whispers go Unheard- But at Night I hear Them In my
Dreams, So loud...
I Am not A Brok
Random Deviant Hello
"The best thing about being an artist is that you don't have to grow up to be one."
--
Spread The Love, visit a Random Deviant [link]
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Jesus, I'm ready to come home
--
Jesus, I'm ready to come home
--
Turk
--
Jesus, I'm ready to come home
--
behind the curtain anything goes...
So keep on postin' and keep in touch!
--
"A silent face often expresses more than words." -Ovid
--
Perfection is boring.
--
Turk
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