Visionary prose poetry. I was aiming for a beautifully melancholic mood. I really want to know what you think about this one.
Chapters 6 and 7 are missing because it's on my girlfriend's computer. Sorry.
Aaron further understands his place, and what exactly he has sacrificed.
For those who don't know what a funk is, it is a non-technical term for the down part of any wave of depression, however long or short its stay, or even any of those 'off' moments, when one hasn't any concept of up or down, let alone what's happening. And fuel for my most recent 'masterpiece.' I wrote this one late at night, while in the midst of a funk. 'Nuff said.
Perhaps some of you wonder how the title has anything to do with the story... Well, this was originally a project I did for a composition class in high school. We needed to write a story in the fashion of a noted artist. I chose the only well-known medieval age writer. I consider myself a dreamer. Thus, this is the story I told.
This is about me...or dawn, I mean. No, it's about a winter dawn. Hehe...
This is an idea. Upon consideration of how an immortal might tell his/her story, this was what came to mind. But it's just an idea...
Brahmin- The force that holds the universe together A poem written to define exactly what 'brahmin' is. What everyday events, miracles, we take for granted.
The first chapter from a book being written in a as-of now 8 book series featuring Aaron as the eventual God-figure... Although this book has absolutely nothing to do with him. Four books graphing the lives of those to be touched by Aaron's arrival are depicting the same timeframe before the meteor crashes to the planet. This chapter is from book two of the four. In all, I have nearly 56 characters in this orchestra of fantasy and science fiction. Hope this explains a little.
Book three of the as-of now 8 book series, book 7 being Inhabitability: Of the Human and Humane. While one takes place on earth and the other takes place on Lorcalon, they mingle pretty well. Er. Mesh. Yeah. This book is of military design, and I tried to make it quasi-'marine' in nature, although it's very hard to do so with a pack of humanoid dragons. If you are remotely confused, I recommend reading Two the Thistle chapter 4. Anyways, hope you like. (This is probably the least re-read of the books, and probably chock-full of mistypes and misspellings and grammar problems. I apologize beforehand). ~x
What if we can't see what is under out noses? What if the count down has begun?
This is my self portrait in words. You people who don't believe this haven't seen me most days in RL. I'll write another one that's the happier side soon.
A young werewolf flees hunters, whether or not he escapes is another matter....
THis is the hopeful side of my Self-Portrait in words prose peices. Not fiction in the slightest but possibly fantasy... copyright me
A short poem about the wild and free-spirited dragons who harnessed the power of water and wind. It took me 45 minutes to do! Hope you enjoy it! Comments and criticism appreciated, as always!
This is a first feeble attempt at the beginning of what may someday become my first novel. I am planning on integrating the story of Daughter's Wrath into this somewhere... Please comment profusely, as I am venturing into uncharted territory... *gulp*