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More from ~Maylar

Baneful LullabyI can hear the soft rustle of your lips,
it feels like falling down,
once again...
There's that faint scent of your blood
from all the cuts made,
carried by the wind...
as always,
it shreds me to thousand pieces.
Some things never change.
And all I remember,
all I can feel,
is the sense of those scars under my fingers,
along with the faint trails of blood
from the wounds that will never heal.
Love, that is the word that hurts above any other...
it bites deeper than fangs,
cuts harsher than a blade...
It's a burn of acid on my skin,
together with the ghosts of your kisses...
Love, that is a shadow of the pain
that wi
Ups and DownsHe admires my work
but the monkey of his avatar
still scratches its butt right into my face...
what an irony of a double meaning
and yet, that is how it supposed to be, today...
It seems I turned the stars on the sky to move
in different direction (and then forget about it)...
It was a frivolous, out of the mood, thing,
done just because I can and
to try it out,
for a change...
I am the God of my own Universe,
after all
and in the end, I half-liked
this scrambling of peace,
especially while drunk...
But the hangover coffee tastes blunt in the mornings
lately
and dreams fill my crusty eyes too long
after waking,
recent
The End, story IThe rain is melted steal and it falls.

She stands there, on the cold corner of the street, under the big red umbrella in the gray world and frequently shifts from feet to feet. Looking around. Waiting.

The skirt on her is washed so many times its former color can't be told. Patches, on the other hand, covering big tears and gaps, are multicolored, but all in dull shades. That skirt barely covers her pale legs, turning rapidly blue from coldness. It doesn't even reach the old, gray shoes she pulled over the naked feet.

Big jacket on her is obviously not hers, as she is barely visible under all the layers of fabric. Her tiny, white face is l
Prologue to The EndUnder the mechanical moon, they sit.

Hand in hand, lost for the rest of the world, eyes glazed with the sights of future that will never come. The sky is about to crash.

-I know how much you were trying…-the first one starts, then stops to clear its throat. Then starts again.

-I know, ok? There was nothing more you could have done. I want you to know that. Remember that…-

Silence filled with doubt welcomes these words. Then it turns into a sigh.

-If I only…-starts the Second and the gentle fingers cover its lips, preventing it from talking.

-Nothing…nothing in the whole universe.-First whispers-What is done is done,

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July 17, 2009
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:iconmaylar:
I donated some stamps for :iconashkamoo:'s contest.
Wonderful :iconmariketa: won 2nd place and two stamps from me. This is the first one, featuring her beautiful art.
:iconmariketa:
!Mariketa Jul 18, 2009
aw, you're so sweet! thanks again!
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