A comfy corner on a fluffy pillowed couch; books at your disposal while your cat purrs next to your woolly socks— it is winter, and you are in your element as you drink hot cocoa. The fireplace blares as its warmth cradles you tightly— you are safe here.
46 posts
The Shell Of A "hero"
The shell of a "hero"
Archive #1 | Copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's note: Hi guys! This is a writing piece that I wrote a long time ago that I really liked. I am open to pointers and suggestions to help me improve my writing! Enjoy ^^
The Shell of a "hero"
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Doomsday marks the sore spot in that heart of yours.
Is it physical pain, or emotional, again?
I can only fill it with empty compliments for so long,
I've been doing it for too long.
But nothing else seemed to stop the bleeding.
Do you really need comfort?
Or do you need yourself?
I can only help you by giving you the truth...
My fear in hurting you is shallow,
Shallow enough to stop myself from trying once more.
The truth can rip out a heart.
The truth can reveal the warmth inside, blanketed by the sun.
All of this warmth, hidden.
The truth can crack that protective shell.
But will we allow it to happen?
I know your warmth is beautiful,
But the shell is ugly enough to drive me away.
I'm selfish, and so are you.
But I am the villain in your story.
The villain is bound to hurt,
I am bound to reveal the truth.
Your anticlimactic story, your undeserving hateful past.
You drag down those who are so full of light with you.
Down, down the inky, gloomy tunnel.
You don't mean to, I tell myself.
Belief can only do so much.
I adore you for your aspiring ways, your joy and passion for things that make you shine.
But that alone won't be enough to bribe.
Farewell, hero,
Until you realise the villain is always right.
I'm always here for you.
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More Posts from Saturnfairycat
Infatuation
Archive #9 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: SECOND POEM MENTIONED RAHHHH ENJOY
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Infatuation
Summersweet, white alder, pepper bush—
wind that blows bouquets away with a swoosh.
A church, the ocean and the utter devotion
such words that are unremittingly
used and mentioned.
You must be annoyed and sick of the voices
telling you about the, oh so many choices…
that you can take.
It makes your cliff shake and ache against the currents
you’re trying to break.
Hundred of shouts turns into a song
while you still can’t get along—
with yourself and the image
that you portray as a sailor, paying primage.
You can’t love a siren,
moreover cage them in a shrine to admire in.
They didn’t draw you in with their beauty,
they were just on death duty.
Artless feelings are sweet and dependent
until you sneeze and crush flowers gifted,
not to the loved one but to the church—
a place of worship but for a search…
of pathetic purpose.
Arson ash that coughs up the lungs
makes heartthrobs hold their tongues.
It’s been so long since the reminiscence,
but existence with omniscience means that
one can’t help those that don’t want it.
Sailors should save those words for those who admit it.
Repetition shows a mind not working—
hiding behind the words of formal glory.
When the time comes that you consider your fate,
please stop placing your heart on a plate.
Not everything is worth dying for, therefore
realise this before you bleed even more.
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Woe the building that falls
Archive #8 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: Sooo I decided to post them all separately, but then probably do one post at the end combining them all. Because I lOooOOOooOve making tags... aha. If you guys can throw me some tags to put in it would be great, I never know what kinda tags to put. Enjoy! --------------------------------------------
Woe the building that falls
To seek a soul whose pictured as gold,
makes artless mortals sway.
The siren theory is embodied as a place—
that is known for its embrace…
of worship, importune and obsession.
But to pray to who is equivocal…
they’re merely a god, merely a question.
You can’t treat a person like a church possession—
the inner walls creak and moan
against the protest and crack of bone.
Nicknamed Dulia for its glory,
but it drowns those who try to adore thee.
The plafond above our heads sing in pressure–
haunting the thought of being crushed.
Whilst they cry for their successor,
dust floated towards the exit as if being rushed.
The sky tends to fall away;
clouds imitate a chevet.
The sight itself creates much dismay,
but time is an illusion…
oh, such betray.
But what a church with no heaven?
Sky, empyrean, and the ether
don’t judge a star's demeanour!
Aperture with glass framework–
edging feelings with a smirk.
Reflection shows a shining gleam,
but true colour is never seen.
The sun has a shaded costume
using the moon as hecatomb.
It may use perfume as a facade…
but mien flares hearts exerting ballade.
If darkness plummets beneath our feet
may I pray for a deathless greet.
The devotee,
limp in their extremities,
served one purpose…and failed.
It drifted into sea like a dead anemone–
with no avail or memory.
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A human in a mushroom house
Archive #16 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: yes. I must confess. this one is very short - have no fear! The title is what makes it iconic. Enjoy!
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A human in a mushroom house
A funeral for someone who dares to question power,
a shadow obligated to cower.
A love towards another could be a one way stream,
while the amour propre of the other could be dead scream–
a sleeping lake.
When will my Inamorato wake?
When will fairies start singing for thy
Instead for the Queen?
Oh, her majesty, the Queen,
What a joke, what a pity!
Nothing seems to make them witty,
Their own Queen died, not from poison.
Pixie dust doesn’t fix everything, does it?
His love, his bride.
A fairy that reminded him of the clouds
Who kissed the sun in a hush lullaby.
As the moon, red as blood can be,
Replaced it at night.
The Queen was replaced, yes!
By a human, no less.
A minor death, left to rot…
As the human queen, was never caught.
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Star clusters of pasque flowers, the series
Archive #13 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: NEW POEM SERIES MENTIONED RAHHHHH!! Anyway, this one doesn't have an abstract (too lazy to make one). But basically look forward to the next following days because we got three new poems coming >:D
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Poem names:
Fairy salt
In truth
A human in a mushroom house
Notes from poems:
Themes: meadows, jealousy, dreams, saturn, hail storms, attic, sunflower, fairy
Themes: winter, romance, moon, skies, star clusters, spring, pasque flower
Abstract | Obsession
Archive #7 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's Note: Hey, so I have a set of three poems that are interlinked and summarised into this abstract. Now here is the question, do I post all three poems separately, or all together? You tell me! Enjoy :)
Obsession, the Abstract
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When one compares their dependency on an item or being with an unhealthy tendency to forget the importance of being their own person. A siren is known for the obsession she produces just from singing; while a place of holiness can be known for saving those that have no other place to go. Obsession and adoration are two separate things, but sometimes the siren can be merely adored… while the building is seen as a cult designed for obsession. The comparison of the siren and church to the human's dependent heart is a wake up call for those who allow themselves to serve no other purpose than living in someone else’s life.
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