10-22-2013, 02:55 AM
I feel I've been beating around the bush too much with some of the things I've been posting. I'm still a little shaky on how much I should do my own thing. I'm not used to anybody really liking or paying attention to my work and I don't mind negative opinions I just want opinions at all. So here is a small little narrative and I apologize in advance, this is an 'egg' (courtesy of tectak) It's gonna be long so tell me what to keep and what to scrap
here is a visual reference
https://scontent-b-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hpho...9400_n.jpg
I stumble,
dead and cold,
through the pitch black of
cardboard and concrete woods.
Beneath the stairs I catch my breath
And I have to wonder,
where am I?
I look,
up the long and dreadful terrace,
the stinging stone grey,
and smell of hard water,
the buzzing of the flaring heater.
I can feel the cold nipping at my toes,
and the dust beneath my feet.
So I move to escape,
the underground copse.
To be free of the stairs,
and to relieve myself.
I climb and I struggle,
step by step, agonizingly slow
my vision is faint,
under the eerie yellow glow,
Halfway up I stop,
to catch my balance
lest I tumble back to my doom.
At last the top is reached.
The open air and the cold,
envelopes my lungs.
I step out the door from the parallel incline,
as I turn right,
my heart leaps into my throat.
Standing in the middle,
of the blue tile sea,
is the imp.
The Devourer returns.
My old phantom,
black as the endless pit,
that leads to hell,
with neon orange eyes,
hollow and chilling,
and long and twisted vexing fingers,
crouched like a gargoyle
with smooth curving horns,
holding his trinket
with one thumb and forefinger
guarding its light
so I can never see,
"So here we are once again,"
he hisses in whispers.
"Sleepwalking again old friend?"
his voice bites at my senses
and my body locks up.
"did you miss me boy?
It has been so long."
he turns away
and his head bobs,
almost like a soundless cackle.
I stare in silence,
petrified in ice.
It's been so long,
since I've seen those eyes.
He turns back
and those hollow orange voids
pin to my stare.
"You know what comes next,"
he whispers coldly.
I feel the memories of his voice,
tearing away at my sanity.
I almost wish to beg,
but I'm to frightened to move.
He lets out his call
and my head implodes.
He begins to feed,
off my fear and my rage,
and he devours my peace.
As I fall into the sea,
I feel my defeat.
At the bottom I'm met,
with the searing cold tile.
And I'm finally awake,
I look up to see the Devourer.
In his place is a chair,
with a jacket draped over,
like a looming curtain.
here is a visual reference
https://scontent-b-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hpho...9400_n.jpg
I stumble,
dead and cold,
through the pitch black of
cardboard and concrete woods.
Beneath the stairs I catch my breath
And I have to wonder,
where am I?
I look,
up the long and dreadful terrace,
the stinging stone grey,
and smell of hard water,
the buzzing of the flaring heater.
I can feel the cold nipping at my toes,
and the dust beneath my feet.
So I move to escape,
the underground copse.
To be free of the stairs,
and to relieve myself.
I climb and I struggle,
step by step, agonizingly slow
my vision is faint,
under the eerie yellow glow,
Halfway up I stop,
to catch my balance
lest I tumble back to my doom.
At last the top is reached.
The open air and the cold,
envelopes my lungs.
I step out the door from the parallel incline,
as I turn right,
my heart leaps into my throat.
Standing in the middle,
of the blue tile sea,
is the imp.
The Devourer returns.
My old phantom,
black as the endless pit,
that leads to hell,
with neon orange eyes,
hollow and chilling,
and long and twisted vexing fingers,
crouched like a gargoyle
with smooth curving horns,
holding his trinket
with one thumb and forefinger
guarding its light
so I can never see,
"So here we are once again,"
he hisses in whispers.
"Sleepwalking again old friend?"
his voice bites at my senses
and my body locks up.
"did you miss me boy?
It has been so long."
he turns away
and his head bobs,
almost like a soundless cackle.
I stare in silence,
petrified in ice.
It's been so long,
since I've seen those eyes.
He turns back
and those hollow orange voids
pin to my stare.
"You know what comes next,"
he whispers coldly.
I feel the memories of his voice,
tearing away at my sanity.
I almost wish to beg,
but I'm to frightened to move.
He lets out his call
and my head implodes.
He begins to feed,
off my fear and my rage,
and he devours my peace.
As I fall into the sea,
I feel my defeat.
At the bottom I'm met,
with the searing cold tile.
And I'm finally awake,
I look up to see the Devourer.
In his place is a chair,
with a jacket draped over,
like a looming curtain.