Tag Archives: writer

The death of a king

Posted on by under Poetry

*

There once was an old king,

From a far away land he had come,

Chased away by his kin,

Many years before when the revolt happened.

.

They said he was a monster,

They said he had to pay with his life

For the sins of his father

And all those that had lived before

.

So his parents fled their land,

Taking the young child on a long journey

Across oceans and mountains,

Through forests and fields of barley.

.

They ran and ran and ran,

As fast as they could to escape their pursuers

But hey were caught up with

And only the boy managed to keep going.

.

He lived a long and full life,

Sometimes looking back towards the land

Where he had come from,

But never halting his march forward.

*

Every man has to die. It is fact, one day or another each and every one of us will pass on to whatever comes next. Whatever we do, whatever we try, death will always catch us. Wether we are a simple citizen or a king, whether we are rich or poor, whether we are a good man or a bad one. Death will always catch up with us. But that is not necessarily a bad thing, for what would life be if it wasn’t for death? Would we come to appreciate it as much if it never came to an end? No, I don’t believe so. Life is a gift and we have to make the most of it, however hard or painful it is, we have to keep marching forward, we have to keep going. Always.

In the jungle

Posted on by under Poetry

In the jungle of my thoughts

Memories jumbled in knots

In the jungle of my thoughts

What shall fill those empty slots?

.

In the jungle of my thoughts

Images in bumbled spots

In the jungle of my thoughts

Never trust these insane plots.

.

In the jungle of my thoughts

Ideas painted in dots

In the jungle of my thoughts

Everything jumbled in knots.

.

EDIT – 16/12/2017: changed the first “Ideas painted in dots” into “Images in bumbled spots” to restore the absence of repetition that was originally conceived.

Versatile Blogger Award Nomination

Posted on by under Random

Well, apparently I have just been nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award, or at least I have just noticed I was nominated, by Laura Clark at Inspiredstoriesandpoems so I’m going to do what I should’ve done a few days ago already.

The Award Rules

  • Thank the person who gave you this award.
  •  Include a link to their blog.
  •  Next, select 15 blogs/bloggers that you follow.
  •  Nominate those 15 bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award.
  •  Finally, tell 7 things about yourself.

Full details of the award can be found on the VBA website through this link.

Here are the blogs that I, in my great and infinite generosity, nominate for the award :

Mesayah

SaraCRoethle

LivingTheDream

EJBorchardt

WritingStoriesRocks

KeithGarretPoetry

KurtBrindley

GradyPBrown

MyRedPage

DoubleUPoet

ThePublicBlogger

InsanityBeautiful

IridescentFoxBlog

A.D.Martin

And of course (I don’t know if it’s allowed but who cares) :

InspiredStoriesAndPoems

And here are 7 facts about my awesome and extremely important life :

  1. I love cheese, potato crisps and sausage/salami.
  2. I’m 20 but I still play Pokemon a lot.
  3. My Pocket Monsters dream team is composed of Snorlax, Sandslash, Scyther, Rayquaza, Lapras, Typhlosion, Leafeon, Pickachu/Raichu and Giratina. (Yeah, it’s more than six but IDC)
  4. I have a younger brother who is annoyingly annoying.
  5. I am annoyingly annoying with my little brother, that’s because I’m still a little kid at heart and I love to play pranks on him.
  6. I have a gorgeous and loving girlfriend which I love.
  7. I want to become super rich and to be able to buy myself a whole library so that I can read all the books when I want to.

 

Also, thank you again Laura for nominating me! :)

What is the point?

Posted on by under Poetry

What is the point in continuing when no one cares?

What is the point to keep on going when it leads nowhere?

What is the point in trying if we still make mistakes?

What is the point on living if death is near?

What is the point in stopping when everything keeps going?

What is the point in giving up when we can do it?

What is the point in leaving when we can stay?

What is the point in liking when we can love?

 

Here is a randomy poetry thingy, I don’t really know what to call it, I don’t remember what inspired me to write these few words and I don’t really know what it means but here they are.

It’s hot down under

Posted on by under Shorts

Yep, still alive and kicking, despite what you might think. Well, for today at least. Tomorrow, at dawn, my soul will descend to the flaming infernos of the afterlife as the contract I signed with my blood so long ago takes effect. It has been a short run but oh so fulfilling. I know many of you would think that I was crazy to agree to that and even more if you knew I was the one that started it all, but I simply don’t care, I’ve had what I wanted and I am now contempt with my fate.

I do not fear it, or rather him, nor do I fear her. They both will come tomorrow as the first lights of day appear to guide me to the doors, and you know what? I’m going to follow them with a smile while humming a piece of music I like, perhaps ‘What a wonderful world’, it would be funny. Why am I not afraid? I heard you ask. Well, actually I am a bit scared, I have to admit at least that. Plus, what good would it do to lie now and about that subject?

Yes, I am afraid, afraid of what I’m going to find down there, afraid of what is going to find me. But that is good, at least to me it is, it means I’m still alive and that I’m still part of this world. Once I get there I fear I might not fear again. If I could I wouldn’t go now, I would try some other things, I would go to places, I would make the most of my few years on this earth. Sadly I have to leave, it has been decided, it was the plan since the beginning and I will follow it to the end.

But, hypothetically, if I could? Yes, of course I would, anyone would. I did what I had to do here, what I had set out to achieve, I finished my task and I am contempt of all I have done. But that does not mean I wouldn’t take the chance to see what else there is to see out here, to experience what other things life is made of. It is not that I don’t want to, simply that I can’t. And I have resolved myself to accept this fact and to live with it.

She is dead, he is long gone and the others are safe, that is all that mattered, all that I wanted. It was worth it, all of it. It’s impressive how walking on a beach under the evening stars can clear one’s mind, I don’t think I’ve been this calm or focused for a long time now… It’s really nice to have this final moment in such good company, silence and peace are my good friends and they will follow me ’till the end tonight, as they always have.

 

I had this idea while writing the Quotidian n°29, I thought about doing a little sketch on having sold my soul to the devil but, well, it became this. Enjoy!

Train

Posted on by under Random, Shorts, Uncategorized

train wagon

He opened his eyes slowly. The same continuous shaking of the train as it ran on the tracks that had been rocking him to sleep had now woken him up. He looked around, there weren’t many passengers left in his car, only an old couple of women, a single father with his child and another man who was reading the newspaper and seemed to be alone. Suddenly, as he was lying back on the seat, he saw the momentary flash of red that had become so familiar lately disappear from the corner of his eye into the next wagon.

He rose up and started running instantly, he had done the exact same movements so many times that it had become almost like a reflex for him. He side-stepped as the father tried catch his falling child and jumped over one of the old women as she stretched out her arm to grab one of the newspapers on the opposite table and barely made it through the sliding door that shut behind him. He could still hear the angry comments that the old couple made about him but he didn’t pay attention as he tried to focus on his task, this time he would make it!

He noticed the piece of red cloth as it disappeared inside one of the compartments and cursed. Damn it, so fast! He thought, already trying to catch his breath. But this time he knew what to do though and he wouldn’t let his prey escape. He ran past the first two doors and rushed through the third as it suddenly opened. He shouted a quick apology to the family who was calmly sitting in it, the children playing a quiet game of cards as their parents were each reading a book. As he got out on the other side he saw the back of a red coat and the tip of a hat of the same color disappear.

Good, he was getting closer! He smiled and sprinted through the corridor, not even paying attention to the scenery passing by at impressive speeds out the large windows. By now he wasn’t even fazed by the rocking and the shaking of the train as it rushed on its tracks, he had become accustomed to its rhythm and the eventual disturbances it could cause. He turned left, following his memory, and then immediately right. This time he saw her disappear through the door leading to the train’s third or fourth wagon, she was running as fast as she could, holding her hat on her head with one of her thin hands, her long red coat flapping behind her.

She was wearing heel, high and black, though not quite as thin as stilettos, and he couldn’t help but be impressed by her speed considering that. A long curl of blond hair trailed behind her before disappearing. Oh not you don’t! He thought. Not again!

“Sir, would you please hold that?!” He exclaimed as a middle-aged man passed through the sliding door.

“Thank you!” He shouted as he jumped through the opening under the stranger’s surprised look.

He knew she had gone right but as he turned towards the corridor on the left he suddenly stopped and closed his eyes, counting to two before resuming his race against time. He already felt the familiar tug inside his chest, he would be pulled back once more if he didn’t make it in time. Stopping now might not have seemed the wisest choice as he was already well behind, but an innumerable number of tries and fails had proved otherwise.

Running at full speed and straight ahead was the only thing he had found that helped overcome the urge to stop as so many passengers, children and adults alike, suddenly stepped out of their compartment to witness the majesty of the High Falls, said the be the largest waterfalls in the world, and the beautiful light the sun shined on it at that time of the day. He ran past them, forcing the passengers to get ont he side, this was the only way he had found he could get past this spot without stopping out of fear of hurting someone.

Finally he heard the familiar whistle of the train resound throughout all the wagons. Fifteen. He accelerated and as he counted his sixty-seventh step he opened his eyes and veered to the right, catching the closing door to the last wagon filled with passengers as it closed behind the blonde woman dressed in red. She had already crossed half of the distance to the end of the wagon and anyone that had gotten this far would’ve thought she might make it before he even took a step, but luck, or more truthfully knowledge, should prove otherwise.

He kept running but jumped on the first table to his right, not even stopping to apologize to the other passengers, he didn’t have time for it anymore. He jumped from table to table, careful not to  trip but running as fast as he could. Finally he heard the sound of shattered glass and smiled. Yes, again! He jumped to the tables on the left and kept running as he saw the young woman get back up and resume running after tripping in one of the waiters that was carrying a tray full of glasses of champagne.

He was catching up to her. Nine, eight... He jumped down from the table he was stepping over the waiter who was trying to clean up his mess and forced his legs to move faster as he crossed the last straight line that was getting him closer and closer to the girl in red. It was all over if she pressed the button but he was ready, he was going to stop her! He ran as fast as he could, feeling that the last few meters lasted an eternity. He swore the whole wagon moved in slow motion for a second there.

Then, as he was about to pass out from the effort he gave one last impulsion and caught her hand, pulling her with him to the right, away from the dreadful round object. He heard her gasp slightly at the contact and saw her hang on to her hat as she spun around and stopped her course with her back hitting the wall. He almost crashed into her and only managed to stop in time by throwing his arms straight in front on him, on each side of her head, and feeling like he was breaking every bone in his body.

Finally he looked up at the pretty little rabbit he had been chasing and almost stopped breathing, or rather panting, as their eyes met. She was still holding on to her hat for dear life and her bright blue eyes were wide and her golden locks were only a bit dishevelled, fact which took him slightly aback after such a pursuit. Three.

“Gotcha!” He whispered with a smile as he slowly got closer to her.

Not breaking contact with her eyes her leaned in, ever slowly, and as his lips closed up on hers he could feel her breath his face. It was hot and fresh at the same time, even if it was against his will he couldn’t help but look at her gorgeous mouth. She bit her luscious lips as she understood what he was about to do and sucked in a sharp intake of air before letting out what he thought was a cute little squeak. Then, as he was about to kiss her he saw the red lines he so desired to touch move and a smile spread on her face.

“Game over…” He read the words on her lips more than he heard them and as soon as she said that he felt his chest being pulled apart and his consciousness fade away once more.

“Damn it!” He barely managed to articulate as he looked back up to her eyes.

He saw her wink at him and everything went black. He felt the continuous shaking of the train once more and opened his eyes to look around, there weren’t many passengers left in his car. Wait, had she just winked at him? Oh no you don’t, not this time! He thought as he shot up, the red flash disappearing from his view on the other side of the wagon, and started running as fast as he could once again.

 

So, yeah, here is Train, a short story I thought up a few days ago. I didn’t have any idea for the title so I went for the most simple option… :P

I don’t know what to think of it yet, we’ll see in the next few days but I hope you enjoyed reading it!

Death is but a transition

Posted on by under Shorts, Tales of Ore

“Does the people wish to hear the last words of the criminal?!” Asked the head judge as he stepped on the wooden platform where the man was chained.

Many hands shot up as he asked this question, more than three-quarters of the crowd cheered to manifest their wish to hear his final pleadings to the judges and to the sky to let him live, while the other part of the crowd just wanted to see the execution and the monster, that was still breathing, die before their eyes. None of them were particularly excited by the idea of someone dying before their eyes but he was different, he had been such a pain in their life in his foolish quest to destroy everything. Now he was being punished for his countless crimes and they wanted to see him pay. The soul lance was almost ready and in a few minutes he would his existence would have vanished from this world and they would be at peace again.

“Very well, criminal, you may speak one last time…” Said the middle-aged man who had been presiding over his trial, scratching his long bear at the same time.

The executioners walked to the chained prisoner and proceeded to unbound his mouth before taking a step back to let everyone see him as he spoke. He had short brown hair and a short, well-trimmed beard. His eyes were of a surprising color, in-between pale blue and grey, as he lifted his head to look at the crowd that had gathered before him. He stared at them for a long moment during which everyone held their breath in anticipation before he spoke. His voice was deep and calm as he started to pronounce his last words.

“I am Ascendi, I am the prince and today I am to be executed like a vulgar criminal, here are my words to you. Death is but a transition, life may be taken away from me, I may be reduced to ashes, my soul may leave my body, but do you think that it will stop me? I am Ascendi and I will make this continent crumble, I will make your houses and you palaces, your cities and you countries, turn to rubble under my foot. This will no stop me, nothing will stop me. Death is but a transition…” As his words echoed around the wide square no other sound could be heard, all held their breaths either in shock, fear or anticipation.

The judge gave the order and the executioners took the veil off the large spear that had been levitating over the wooden platform, it started glowing brighter as the put their palms out towards it and started chanting in the ancient language. A few seconds passed, during which they were the only ones who dared speak, then slowly the air started blurring around the length of the lance and red flames appeared, quickly growing and turning to orange, then yellow and finally pure white.

The intensity of the heat and the light that emanated from the flames could be felt all the way to the back of the crowd, people could barely keep their eyes open. The executioners’ chant started getting louder and louder to finally reach its peak as they gave the final words. They both took a step back and the soul lance slowly started getting closer to the man in chains, he stared at the sacred weapon with pride until it reached the center of its chest.

Then it stopped moving but kept getting brighter. The man closed his eyes and opened his mouth, letting out all his rage into a single but powerful cry. It lasted for a number of long seconds, only his voice could be heard now as he was completely engulfed by the light. Then, suddenly, there was an even brighter flash of light that encompassed the whole square. As quickly as it had come the light had vanished, along with the echoes of the criminal’s voice.

When the crowd opened their eyes the only thing that could be seen were the chains that bound him earlier, nothing of the man remained, he had completely vanished and the spear had found it place back in the center of the wooden platform. It was once more covered with the veil by the executioner before the judge walked to the crowd.

“The criminal has been executed!” He exclaimed before turning around and leaving the platform as cheers erupted from the crowd.

The making of something incredible

Posted on by under Shorts

RainbowCake-small2

To make something incredible you need :

An interesting idea

A handful of imagination

Two tablespoons of rainbow powder

Some steam from a kettle

A quarter of a third with an already passed expiration date

No more restraints

And, most of all, just a hint of happiness.

When you do have all this, follow these next steps :

Take the interesting idea, put it in a bowl with the handful of imagination and let it settle for a while.

During this time you can use one table-spoon of the rainbow powder and mold it into a small sphere.

Take the quarter of the third and put it in the freezer for about twelve minutes, this should ensure that it’s not completely solid and yet not completely liquid either.

Use the small sphere of rainbow powder you made and squish it in a flat disk before putting the idea/imagination blend on it.

Spread a thin layer of the rest of your rainbow powder on it before rolling it into a bun. Make sure the blend doesn’t come out.

Once this is done, use the kettle steam to dissolve the remaining restraints.

Finally sprinkle the hint of happiness on your finished bun.

Put it in the oven for about as long as you feel and tada! It’s ready.

Make sure you’ve thrown away your restraints and enjoy something incredible!

Mr. Tea

Posted on by under Random, Shorts

il_570xN.209538877

Prompt from WriterCookie but found here!

I wanted to do this prompt because I, contrary to many people who do it I suppose, do not like tea and have never enjoyed drinking it. I’d much rather have a good cup of hot chocolate or a glass of apple juice than tea. Now, I don’t mean to say I hate tea, no that’s wouldn’t be true, I like the concept but I don’t like drinking it, just like coffee.

What I do like about tea though is that it reminds me of people. My girlfriend,because she just can’t have enough of it, she love drinking it at night in front of a movie or before going to bed or while she is working on her lessons. It also reminds me of my mother and my grandmother, from the time when she was still alive, I remember the time they both tried to make me drink tea to try to see if I liked it. I’m sure it was a very good cup of tea but I have never been able to finish it and in the end they had to empty it in the sink because I really didn’t like it.

For me tea is something that I associate with these persons, and with England and funny jokes, but not something I am an active part of. I’m more an observer of tea than a drinker. I might try again one day but for the moment I’m just very happy to be where I am.

 

There, 253 words. Not bad.

The lord of the red moon

Posted on by under Random, Shorts

“Hey Fried, have you ever heard of the legend?” The young girl whispered as she extended her hands closer to the fire.

“Which one?” Asked her friend, a blonde boy barely a year younger than her, as he looked at her with visible curiosity?

“The one about the moon.” Replied the girl with a smile as she pointed one of her small fingers towards the sky.

“About the moon?” Asked the boy, unsure of what she was talking about.

“You know Fried! The one about the lord and the red moon!” She exclaimed as she sat down beside him and straightened her legs.

“No, I haven’t.” He replied, listening to the fire crackle behind him.

“Well do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you want to hear it, you dummy?!” She exclaimed. Silence took over as the boy known as Fried thought about her proposal.

“Okay.” He said with a small nod.

“Okay what…?” Replied the girl win a teasing tone.

“Okay, I do want to hear the legend.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She stated, looking straight in front of her into the dark night.

He looked at her, unsure of what to say, before it clicked in his head.

“Oh. Sorry. Yes Mavis, I want to hear the legend, will you please tell it to me?” He asked as he joined his hands and made an imploring face.

“That’s better!” She smiled brightly. “Okay, well then, here is the story of how the moon vanished. It all started on a warm autumn afternoon…”

The young boy listened intently as his red-haired friend talked, he couldn’t help but stare at her delicate face. He would never in his life admit it, but he loved her freckles and how they seemed to dance on her skin and he couldn’t get enough of the gleam in her eyes when she told him her stories. Mavis had been his friend since he could remember, it had always been him and her, often under a similar night sky, only lit by the stars, her talking to no end and him listening attentively. He didn’t always understand what she was talking about, nor what she meant, but he knew that she was passionate about it, he could see it on her face and in her gesture, and simply listening to her sweet voice was enough to make him as happy as can be.

Even though sometimes he lost track of what she was telling him, most of the time he tried to really listen. On the one hand her stories were always very interesting, but on the other hand it was a way for him to have something to talk to her about and an excuse to listen to her talk some more. The air was a bit cold that night and he took the blanket, pulling it around both of them. She snuggled closer to him without noticing it and he felt his cheeks burn as she put her head in his shoulder. It was brief of course, as the next instant she was gesturing widely once more, but he cherished these instants with all his heart.

That night he had to thank the brave Nerio and the Lord of the Red Moon for this, after all they were the ones that had made their history a legend, legend that Mavis was now passionately telling him about. Of course, he had already heard the story a few times, about how a human had presumably defeated the lord of the demons by destroying the moon, but he wasn’t about to tell her that! No, he enjoyed these moments too much. Plus, if he let her talk long enough she would eventually fall asleep against his shoulder and he would be able to listen to her breath. Yes, this was one of those moments he would treasure for a very long time because at daybreak, reality would catch up with them and they would have to run again.

But in the mean time, she was there, peaceful and happy, and he was by her side, able to happily stare at her to his heart’s content. Fried’s face lit with a contempt smile as he pulled the cover around their shoulders once more after she had made it fall again by agitating her arms in the air, it mostly happened when she would point out to the place where the red scar was sometimes visible. Tonight it wasn’t the case, the fire crackled under the sky as the stars shone brightly and he was happy.