Demons' Hunt He'd smell it. Something was moving toward him. The scent told of blood a lot of blood. The oldest thing he could smell besides it was the decay. He'd stay low, on all fours, listening to the creature move above him. His black ears would move with it, his black paws would move back and keep following the heavy booted footfalls. He'd take out a wooden spear and it would be tucked under his right arm like the light from the rising sun was still hidden by the broken boards of the house. He moved back slowly, his tail would be stiff and low, the white tip barely brushed the ground. The rotten woDemons' Hunt
FrostThe cold bites into his very soul. He is on the verge of breaking physically and mentally. Nasal passages are encrusted with ice. He can't breathe like he once did. His eyes are kept open by the bridge of frozen water attaching his eyebrows to my sculpture made from a frosted fountain in the local mall transformed into an ice palace. His arms and legs are bound in place by two stands, one displaying martial arts movies, the other selling telephones. I brought them together for the unified purpose of breaking my prisoner's sanity by watching the same video over so often he starts to lose his mind and to show him that communication tFrost
PiecesWriting to find the right words They're lost in the neither regions of the mind Shattered pieces of what once was Trying to put it back together Too many to be bring whole alone My focus is on the brightest pieces For they are the most treasured part Without them there's nothing Without them we'll fade away into the world of what once wasPieces
What will be forgotten What was wrong instead of what was right The edges are sharp so handle with care But a small cut will heal And I'll be there to bandage the wound It might take a little while It might be af
Trial by Fire The hammer clashes on steel, resulting in bangs, sparks and flashes, that lit up the dust and ash of this now god-forsaken cathedral. The sweat from my legs the only moisture in this inferno of burnt fur dust and... well... fire from the maniac pyro who's suddenly decided to launch a burning bench at me!Trial by Fire
I roll to the stone pillar, the dust of the ground making my black trench coat gray, not a color I... achoo... like. Damn annoying idiot! Reloading gives him only a few more seconds to live as the new clip enters Dawn before the last one ev
New Approach to my Writing
Artistic
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Commissions closed for the holidays. Merry Christmas!
GS Avatar by ~mokomel / Montblanc Avatar by ~Marriland
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I do have a real life ya know. I'm not always here for you.
artwork is my life and talent, that I can feel free in imagining in what I believe.
join today -> ~AerrowXPiperClub :3
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The only easy day was yesterday.
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Yet in his eyes, all the sadness of the world
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From a weird, wild clime, that lieth sublime,
Out of SPACE, Out of Time.
Edgar Allen Poe- Dreamland
Renegade
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The only easy day was yesterday.
If you should have any problems I can help you or direct you to someone who can. ^-^
I like to help newbies.
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It takes about 40 muscles to frown but only about 4 muscles to punch someone.
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Life, the waking dream
But yeah reading a good book before you draw or whatever really helps. Oh, and don't worry about submitting something everyday...it's not like you're gonna get kicked off if you don't submit art or something daily.
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It takes about 40 muscles to frown but only about 4 muscles to punch someone.
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