The Forest GirlRobert sat bedside, grieving, next to his deathly ill wife. In her arms she held her child, the one she had just given birth to, the one who was the reason she was now slowly dying. “Eden, I want her name to be Eden,” she coughed out. She knew she was dying, but she didn't want her dear husband's last memories of her to be quiet and filled with nothing but the sound of his tears. She reached a shaky hand up to his scraggly face, wiping away his tears, she pushed the pain back, and tried her best to ignore the feeling of the blood gushing out. She knew that she only had a minute at best, and she was going to make sure to make that minute as happy for him as possible.
“Don't you cry, don't you shed another tear, everything is alright, and everything is going to work out, I promise,” she said soothingly to him, doing her best to suppress her cough and hide the weakness in her voice. She didn't want to die, but she knew it was coming, and there was nothing she could
Fantasy or Reality: Chapter 1“Ugh! Did it have to be the biggest snow storm that Carson had ever seen in like four years?” I asked into the frigid, still air. I was standing next to my red Jeep Cheroke that I had gotten for my 15th birthday. It sucked having to wait six months to drive it, but I would have to wait nonetheless.
School would be starting soon and I knew it, I didn’t like it, but I knew it. I hate even the thought of school. Not because I’m not good, don’t get me wrong, no, it’s because I’m always compared to Kendra, my older sister, who always wreaks havoc, and fails every year but somehow is still able to move to the next grade… sometimes.
Whenever I started a new grade with new teachers, they had expected me to fail, and treated me rudely. Then when I get good grades they treat me like I’m five years old but already knew every digit in pi, which I’ve been working on memorizing since I was six.
I’m only two years younger than my sist
The Hands of TimeShe felt her long flowing blonde hair against her back as she swayed back and forth in rhythm with her true love, the prince. But he could tell something was amiss, for she kept looking at the clock, growing ever anxious with the time. “Is something wrong?” he asked out of genuine concern for the poor girl. “Oh yes everything is quite alright, although I'm afraid I need to go use the ladies room to powder my face,” she said and with that she was off. She only had 3 minutes left until her midnight deadline and she never wanted the night to end. She already felt bad because she lied to the prince to try and leave without much notice being given to her.
As she was on the way out she saw the most grand clock she had ever seen and it was guarded by a pristine velvet rope. Figuring it would be the one of most importance she snuck under the unattended display and began moving the hands of the clock back, only enough to give herself another hour or two with the prince.
Wintery RosesIt may be winter
But the roses are blooming
They’re in my heart
But don’t get me wrong
This is not a bad thing
You see, they make it pretty
And make me want to sing
For the roses come
In colour a many
These are no ordinary roses
No, not just any
These are the smiles
These are the joy
Every gift and new toy
For winter is cold
No one can deny it
But it’s the throne
Where the joyful hearts sit
RainThe droplets fell shimmering
The scent filled my senses
The ground quickly soaked
It was just perfect
I walked outside
And was greeted by a fairy curtain
The moon light lighting the drops
As they made their descent
They clung to my hair
And got lost in my clothes
But I didn't mind
The cold they brought with them
This was what a summer night
Desperately called for the whole season
It's what everyone and everything
Wanted so badly
I felt them rolling down my face
And didn't bat an eye
I knew all too soon
The curtain of light would fade
But until it did
I would stand here
Glad to be surrounded
By the fairy like beauty
The Willow TreeA swift breeze blew through,
Ruffling the willow branches,
As though they were feathers,
Attached to the wings of a dove.
The beautiful branches just swayed,
Showing little resistance to the breeze,
Accepting it and embracing it,
As they pushed gently against each other.
It was picture perfect,
What you see in books,
Or read in movies,
Where the character is reading underneath.
The branches dancing gracefully,
Until the wind begins to die down,
Leaving them still yet again,
Serene and peaceful as before.
I mainly write poems, I'm 17 years old but I have plenty of things to write about, and I never write a piece of poetry that hasn't truly happened to me. My friends say I'm a good writer and singer so many think I should put my creativeness into songs, which I also write and put music to because I play guitar as well. I finally realized as I was writing some of these, that I have been through a lot, yes I will admit, most of it by myself through my own mistakes but the point is I've been through A LOT and I'm still here thanks to some good friends and my mother. I started this Deviant Art when I was only 14 years old and slowly add on my pieces as I find them or as I write/draw them.|
I also do commissions so if you want a piece of writing or a drawing just order one or note me and I'll gladly do it.