ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
You cannot see them.
But I know they are there.
They sprout from my back.
And they let me soar.
As clear as the purest water.
Stronger than mountain stone.
They lift me and my spirit.
You cannot see them.
I fold them or spread them wide.
They feel the touch of the sun.
You may doubt what I say.
But I know they are there.
To me they shimmer and shine.
Scales that reflecy my soul.
You may touch them but never know.
They sprout from my back.
Up in the sky.
Among mountain tops and clouds.
The wind rushes over them.
I soar!
But I know they are there.
They sprout from my back.
And they let me soar.
As clear as the purest water.
Stronger than mountain stone.
They lift me and my spirit.
You cannot see them.
I fold them or spread them wide.
They feel the touch of the sun.
You may doubt what I say.
But I know they are there.
To me they shimmer and shine.
Scales that reflecy my soul.
You may touch them but never know.
They sprout from my back.
Up in the sky.
Among mountain tops and clouds.
The wind rushes over them.
I soar!
Literature
The Wanderer
There was only the sun, and the thirst. For a while it hadn't been so bad, more of a nagging sensation than anything else but as the miles passed and one by the one the others who'd followed in the dark skinned woman's wake collapsed it had changed. From a quiet nagging it grew to be all consuming; blotting out everything else. Now there was just it and the ever more irregular rhythm of her steps as one followed the other, each one harder than the last. But still she staggered onwards beneath the sun's heat, following the woman who'd set out so boldly who knew how long ago. As others gave up and collapsed, never to move again, she carried on,
Literature
find your way back
For Danna. Sorry.
The kitchen was a mess. Bowls were strewn over the countertops, dirty dishes everywhere. Salad ingredients lay wilting on the table and a pot of soup was decomposing on the stove. Michelle and Yael were cooking. Their mother would have told them to clean up as they went, not to make such a big mess. But they didn’t have to worry about that right now.
“Okay, yeah, so just mix that-“
“Got it”
“And…now add four tablespoons lemon juice.”
“Four ta-like, are you positive? That’s a lot of lemon juice.“
“Oh no, no, okay wait, I lied, teaspoons”
Laughter
Literature
Grow again
Everything was grey. The sand, the hills, the sky. There was no life here. Or so it seemed. Because in between the dust-colored lifeless cacti, smoke was billowing from a small, concrete house. But smoke had to come from fire. And fire isn't colorless.
Fire can't be colorless. Moreover, to make fire you'd need wood or another flammable material, and there was none to be found outside the City.
The door of the house opened and a woman walked out. She was tall, with long ash-blonde hair held back in a ponytail, and she wore a denim overall and grey boots. Whether they were actually grey or if it was the dust that had made them so, was unclear
Suggested Collections
A real attempt at some form of poetry. Maybe not the best, but considering I don't do it often, I'm slightly proud of this. Inspired by a dream I had.
Comments5
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I like to think I have wings too....