Rebirth.I have deleted the most of my poetry, seeing it was nothing but poorly-written drool. I don't expect anything to change.
So. To re-introduce ourselves.
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My name is Siarna.
And that's about it.
Hello.
~MasqueradePoetry
Society at its worst.Newest
Wishing Wells of Autumn“Remember me,” was scrawled in grey upon the page. Only grey; what a disgusting final memoir of her beastliness. Of her only, last thoughts in a forgotten hour. Words that were officially now long faded, and the fire in her eyes had long ceased, many years ago.Wishing Wells of Autumn
Once, she had been deeply loved, the embers of her heart adrift in a pale sky. I had watched her, deeply, lovingly, wanting to touch her flesh. I had wanted to smell the sweetness of her skin, caress the lonely beating of a mechanical heart. But the last day of Autumn had fallen on her.
From
by ~MasqueradePoetry
The Piano Loved by ItIvory fingers on the piano keys, remains of a maggot-infested corpse. Hollow eyes, sad and unpleasing, the misshapen spare parts given no remorse.The Piano Loved by It
Reflections of dust floating in the sunlight, naught but a sign of something that could never be possessed. The sins of homicide on a cool February evening, something dark to never be confessed.
Old memoirs rushing through It’s veins, reaching down to the stony fingertips and toes. The piano is stricken, unimaginable words screaming, breaking the silence of the world through the snow.
Everything was du
by ~MasqueradePoetry
Soldier.Frost-bitten memories once of you and I, washed away again by deceitful waves. In which loneliness bled through the tides, putting hollow masqueraders to the grave.Soldier.
Fog wavered there, atop the gloomy waters, and reminded me of forgotten embers. I watched through the ice-glazed window, as you trudged away through broken Decembers.
Flowers stripped of their once tender beauty, have waited since for you at the door. You had once blessed me with your china roses, a much longer time, far before.
Mishapen petals, now frayed at the ends, remind me deep
by ~MasqueradePoetry
Entrails of Trees.Darkness drew soft, fabled fingers here, silencing the trees and tugging shadows. Sheets of snow and ice blanketed there, and the river fell quiet with remorse.Entrails of Trees.
Had it not been so cold, so alone and sharp, the trees crystalized in mishapen tears. The jaded grass and the labyrinth of forest, smelling thickly of a fetid death.
Skeletal branches scrap high to the clouds, reaching out with broken, bony fingers. They creak and cry in the violent wind, falling down, like shadows lost.
Mist grazed with tender illumination, and set far gone trees to bla
by ~MasqueradePoetry
Random Favourites
Wishlist
by ~Matriarch667
by =rache-engeldeviantID
No deviantID yet.
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Connecticut, in filthy Uh-Merica.
- Interests: Anything, really. I like photography and poetry.
- Favourite movie: Doomsday, perhaps.
- Favourite band or musician: Dir en grey, and Gorillaz.
- Favourite genre of music: Japanese rock.
- Favourite artist: Hm. Musically, Regina Spektor. Artistically, I'm not sure.
- Favourite poet or writer: Edgar Allan Poe.
- Favourite photographer: Hm. Horizon-x.
- Shell of choice: The spiral-y ones.
- Wallpaper of choice: Okami.
- Favourite game: Anything on the Wii or Gamecube.
- Favourite gaming platform: Anything from Nintendo.
- Favourite cartoon character: Alucard Hellsing, and all the bandmates from Gorillaz.
- Personal Quote: None, really.
- Tools of the Trade: General's.
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Thank you for requesting a Print of my deviation. Unfortunately, the file type is not support.
Please allow me to change it, which will take about one day. I thank you for your patience and choice of print.
Ammi
Emotional Poet & Pixel Artist
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One who prefers their own Elysium, a collected being of brilliant ambiance and nurturing.
Quite sorry.
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Remember me, she wrote in grey,
in passionate words, now faded away.
Always glad to talk to a fellow Emotional Poet. :3
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One who prefers their own Elysium, a collected being of brilliant ambiance and nurturing.
I'll be sure to go look.
--
Remember me, she wrote in grey,
in passionate words, now faded away.
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One who prefers their own Elysium, a collected being of brilliant ambiance and nurturing.
--
Ah love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits—and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire!
And it was my pleasure entirely; I should really watch you.
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Remember me, she wrote in grey,
in passionate words, now faded away.
You're hilarious.
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Avatar courtesy of the rockin' `conorschild !
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Remember me, she wrote in grey,
in passionate words, now faded away.
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