You came into our life,
Cruel as you were.
You picked up your knife,
And then you stabbed her.
Eleven years old,
Still you didn’t care.
How can you be so cold?
You’re so unfair.
I got some news for you:
You failed your quest.
I’ll give you a clue:
She’s now at her best!
You came back to our life.
Just to hurt us more,
again with your knife…
just as before.
The heartbreaking news…
I remember them well.
Enough with your abuse!
Please say your farewell.
The victim pushing you down.
You won’t ever win!
Let’s begin the countdown,
As this fight begin.
You’ve tried for so many years.
Sto
First entry 16 july
Hello and good day. I have decided to write something so idiotic as a diary. I have just decided to call them entries. I read an article which said that it was supposed to be good for your mind and soul. Bullshit, but I decided to do it anyway. It may come something good out of it. Maybe in a few months I am sitting here, laughing about what I have written here today. Who knows?
Anyways, my name is Deimos Basile. I am 24 years old, and in half a year, I’ll be 25. It is in January, the 18th of January to be exact. I work in the government, as the mayor’s secretaty. I was well educated in politics, and I
you kept a garden in my ribcage by Leukippos, literature
Literature
you kept a garden in my ribcage
the first time the rose
you had planted in my heart
cut my fingertip, I was disappointed
because it didn’t hurt everywhere
like the story my mother told me
that wasn’t hers to tell.
I became a babe crawling back
into the womb, leaving bruises
in her birth canal. there’s some
fox blood in me, but I need
lion teeth to navigate these bushes
(even if it was the mouse
who pulled the thorn.)
I would have liked to be a prince
& let the wind write me
into fairy tales, but my crown
began to crack once upon a time
when you showed me the world
through a monster’s eyes.
but it wasn’t as bad as
when you left me behind
like
Å leve. Hva innebærer egentlig det? Lever man om man bare gjør det samme dag ut og dag inn? Kan man egentlig kalle det et liv, om alt man gjør er å overleve? Dette er spørsmål jeg tar meg selv i å tenke hver bidige dag. Hver gang jeg står opp, og hver gang jeg legger meg. De siste måndene så har vi gjort det samme hver eneste dag. Vi lever ikke. Vi overlever. Vi kan ikke gjøre stort annet etter det som skjedde. Det er for farlig å være ute. Jeg har mistet så mange jeg er glad i, nå tillater jeg ikke lenger at noen går ut uten en god grunn
Uncalm sheets
Far at sea, deep in night;
no sights about, no morning light.
My bed the ocean, vast, uncalm -
my mind the vessel, tumbling around.
In dark surroundings all alone;
air is dense, dense as stone.
Rocking thoughts, waves arise -
It's happened before, so no surprise.
No sleep tonight, rest assured;
another night to be endured.
Spray off the bow, my pillow wet,
loosing direction, eroded by sweat.
Heat and sheets, tangle and growl,
pulling my limbs, more rapidly now.
Desperate for haven, crying out loud:
Where art she, my harbor, to whom I vowed?
Exhausted now, no more to be fathomed,
mind is slipping - soon abandone
The sun peeked over the top of the mountains where snowflakes drifted through the air like emigrating fairies. A fox with two tails crept up the hills. Wolves waited by an oak tree, arching their necks. They felt an emotion the fox didn’t even possess. His body had rejected it, but nonetheless, he approached them with great curiosity.
The moon wouldn’t change her color no matter how much the wolves howled. One of them covered the fox’s ears with its paws, & he could hear the bones inside them creak, aching for touch. They wanted to bite his tail off.
He darted down into the valley & followed a winding river to the
"No. Please don't go."
Avelia grabbed my arm. I gently loosened her grip, avoiding looking at her.
Her hands fell into the bed. She was staring at me now, but I tried to ignore it. I would be devastated if I looked at her now. From the corner of my eye I could see that she was struggling not to cry, but she couldn't help it...
As I touched the doorknob, she stood up in the bed, leaped out off it, into my direction. I knew she would hit the floor pretty badly if I didn't catch her. So I ran towards her, and succeeded.
I had expected her to struggle to get loose, but she just gazed off into the distance with a tense look.
She hugged me. "I
Et land, kald og mørk
En skog av snø og bjørk
Men du lurer på hvor?
Vel, det er mot nord
Svevende ved siden av sitt hode er en fjord
Han er Norge, en mann med få ord
Så mystisk han er
Ingen aner
I hans øyne ser en ingen sjel
Likevel, han er nydelig som en juvel
Han har mange eventyr
Med mange rare folk og dyr
De andre i Norden er hans slekt
Det er ikke alltid kjekt
Alle er ikke så hellige
Men det er iallefall forskjellige
Norge er den stille
Danmark den ville
Finland er den full av liv
Sverige har blikket som skjærer som en kniv
Og Island er....Island
This is a group for Norwegian artists of all kinds, making us able to communicate in our own language, and also promoting our art with fellow contrymen.
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Regler og retningslinjer by norwegianART, journal
Regler og retningslinjer
Okay, her er alt du lurer på angående norwegianART. Les dette før du spør om noe!
norwegianART er et community (klubb, om du vil) for norske medlemmer på deviantART. Alle som vil kan bli medlem, eneste kravet er at du er norsk, eller bor i Norge.
Hvordan bli medlem
1. Trykk på join-knappen på vår forside. I noten skriver du på NORSK hvorfor du vil bli medlem.
Legge til dine Deviations
Vi vil minne om at deviations du sender inn havner i innboksen til mange mennesker. De fleste av disse er ikke norske, så på en måte er du med på å representere det norge har å by p&
Jeg har forresten laget en Discord-server for norske artister (Og andre kreative). discord.gg/AQ4fAQSbgw Jeg tenker å først se hvor mange som ender opp med å joine. Men hadde vært fint å samle norske artister digitalt og ha et sted å snakke/tegne sammen