GraduationLet's see, how did this thing begin...?Graduation by belleotricks
So this is the end?
Is this how we conclude
This journey, dressed in white,
The sky overhead like a bright ocean
Where the "Great Porpoise in the Sky" waits for us,
And laughs while we cry.
I feel as light as the sunlight that fills the air
So brilliant, pure and clean.
Never have I been so free,
For this is as death.
Someone releases doves into the air,
They dance as they disappear.
They are our souls,
Winged and feathered.
With no wings and no wind
My comrades fly up with them
Higher and higher, for it is our birthright;
We have accomplished what we set out to do,
And can't stay here anymore.
I stand beside you, blinking away the tears.
We watch them become white pin pricks
On a blue dome.
If I were to speak, it would be of things long past.
I linger with you as long as I can,
But I must go.
I don't know what awaits me behind the sun, beyond the sky.
But my future is up there... somewhere.
You ask if I am afraid...
I look at you and smile,
The Strength of Spirit (Part 2) With a new host procured at long last, Laocauna was finally at ease. For centuries—since the last of the corpses of the Celtic warriors had rotted and became one with Earth—she had been struggling to maintain her energy. It was taxing for an elemental one to exist in the great emptiness of the world; a body was a safe cage for her to reside in. All of her magic for ages had been focused on keeping herself together; she became so desperate, she combed the edge of the forest in hopes of finding someone or something to inhabit, but ever since that last great battle, the forest was still and nearly empty, save for the animals whom she had befriended and blessed long ago with eternal youth, and herself.The Strength of Spirit (Part 2) by belleotricks
But one day came a stroke of luck: a young girl wandered into her grasp. After inhabiting so many females throughout the span of time, she had grown accustomed to their bodies and mannerisms, and even decided that she herself was a female spirit. If sh
Tolkien's LetterEdith, bring me my pipe—I long to restTolkien's Letter by belleotricks
Beside the fire. The journey home has tired me;
Heavy chains of dread cling to my ankles
Please sit beside me for a while—closely
So I may take your hand— help me ease this pain.
Like a slave, I toil to earn my leisure;
My life has passed in sacrifice and suff’ring.
In youth, I feared upsetting Father Morgan,
Who was more than kind to my brother and me—
He feared you would fill my head with lusty thoughts
When I should have focused on my recitations.
How right was he! The time we spent together
Was the happiest I’ve been since Mum died.
So you were sent away…. So long you were gone.
In school, I poured over old texts, written
In tongues long dead. They’re beautiful, but lonely.
No love like yours I found in those dusty volumes.
When you came back into my life, it was
As though the clouds had cleared, and all things light
And good came back into my life. Then came war.
Back into darkness I went; it n
Adieu, Bold Riley April has come again, wet and dreary, like the woman who lay frozen beneath Lake Tahoe all winter long, and now rises once more to dry her soaked Victorian dress in the sun ere it comes out. Another rainy April, and another year without Bold Riley. This is no surprise, for I heard talk that he wouldn't ever return. The source was reputable, and spoke of how well he was doing, and how Grace had left him blessed beyond all human recount. No doubt he is happy, but is there some longing hidden within?Adieu, Bold Riley by belleotricks
About a month ago, I snuck back into his room for the first time in a great number of years. It was stripped of all his artifacts, gutted and lifeless. It was a ransacked gallery, with impressions of where the art that reflected his art once hung. Without it, it was just four walls with a bunch of desks.
I found my old seat and for a moment I sat down, but perhaps I was mistaken, for my seat had a view of a lovely tree that I used to
My name is Eleanor (I'm on the right). My main realm of "art" is writing, where I spin tales in a variety of styles: short stories, vignettes, fan fiction, etc. I've also been known to dapple in photography, just as a light hobby.
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