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PMMM/SDR2: Mahiru Koizumi's WitchUpon entering, there’s a big room similar to that of a lounge. There’s a couple couches with red velvet, and hanging on the walls are photographs Koizumi had taken. There is a large curtain at the end; Swinging it open, a dark room is shown. Chemicals are spilled on the floor, and there are shards of old pictures scattered everywhere. Flashes of light would attempt to blind the magical girl fighting her; Here, familiars begin to show themselves. It is hard to see them considering it is dark, but their eyes are lit a bright yellow—They look similar to that of a firefly, but bigger in size.
Now, for where the actual witch is: The scenery here looks like where a photographer would take professional photographs. There are dark green curtains on the walls, and all around are photography materials. In the corner, there is even a chair with a green screen behind it. The camera in said room is enlarged with its lens focusing on the magical girl.
The witch looks like a human b
Genius FoolTo be a fool, or to be a genius..What does either really mean?
Is shedding tears considered ones strengths or weaknesses?
Fragments of hope and despair circle throughout time and space continuum.
A fool's smile may be just as genuine as a divine genius.
The hands that reach out to the light up above struggle to hold on tightly.
Rays of sunlight beam down upon the Earth, and with those, ones path may become enlightened.
Waiting For Her HeroThe sorrow cries of her heart cannot be kept unearthed any longer. It extends it's comforting, lonely arms out in hopes another's may feel a connection. As each day goes by with no success, it releases it's pain through hidden eyes as depressing teardrops stream out of her sad-looking eyes, roll down her rosy cheeks, and fall loudly onto the wooden floor.
Every day it waits, but it cannot do this much longer. The heart in which the body envelopes pleads for another to un-root it's deeper meaning; It hopes for one whom will comfort it, protect it, tell it she has worth.
The hearts pain eventually becomes even more rooted as it physically and mentally strains on the user's body. The girl in which she lives in has yet to please her saddened heart. She cries and hopes that one day, someone will truly wish for her to be theirs.
Days, months, and years go by with no success. The saddened girl is approaching adulthood, and she has yet to please her aching heart. She watches as others pass her
Darkened WingsAmidst the cloudy sky, there lay a dozen beautiful birds soaring with ease. All of these birds had beautiful, white feathers that glistened as the sun hit their mellow faces. Their chirps echoed like a wonderful melody, and their eyes shone with friendliness and smiles.
People would gather outside their cramped environments just to stare at the beautiful birds fly by. Children awed at the sight of these doves and glimpses of joy scattered beneath their little faces. One by one, the birds flew past the citizens; "1..2..3..11.."But nobody would stay to watch the 12th bird. As the beautiful show passed the humans' faces, their smiles would turn to disgust as the final doze flew past-It was known worldwide as the "Dark" dove. Nobody knew why it was this color and not a single human being saw it in a hopeful light.
As the birds flew past each city one by one, all of their reactions were the same. The darkened dove felt isolated and humiliated; All it could do was fly past their horri
Shy BeautySoft-spoken eyes and a kind, beautiful heart.
Words of beauty that can never break her apart.
Fearful stories are what scars her so.
Left-handed instruments and musical flows.
Lovely lyrics bewilder the crowd.
Embarrassment will not be allowed.
She hides in the back and stares with such fright.
Her beautiful fingers make a wonderful sight.
Graceful fingers and gorgeous black hair.
She shivers in fear as the awe-spoken stare.
Behind her bass are notes of glory.
Underneath that smile is a wonderful story.
Eternal Land of HopeConcrete pathways hide a pure future beyond the dark clouds.
Eternal seas of hope and despair wash ashore the glimmering lands.
Rays of sunshine descend upon those deemed innocent and pure.
Overcasting gloom departs the greenery of smiles and love.
Compatibility arises as the light shines upon the bright future.
Stars and creatures trail behind as the once mythological sidewalk becomes reality.
She Will Fight AloneThe world around her slowly crumbles beneath her trembling feet.
Former friends pass her by as she cries on the lonesome street.
Her hands embrace her face as tears slowly soak through.
All those who once loved her now say adieu.
Her mind tells her to stay, her heart points away.
She knows what to do; She will hope and pray.
The things she once fought for vanished right before her eyes.
She suddenly stands up and wipes her tears dry.
Everyone may have left her alone in this violent place.
But alone she will stand, alone she will race.
If nobody wishes to have her love and assistance.
Then alone she will fight, alone in the distance.
GoodbyeAbandon me in the shadows if it leads you to a happier life.
With every move I make I feel as though I am turning you further and further away.
Those glimpses of hope physically mask themselves behind these undeserving tears.
Any chance I once had is probably swept under the rug now.
After seeing my endless silly obsessions, I'm sure you would never want to be with someone like me.
It pains my heart to see you slowly slipping from my grasp; I wish I could be yours.
Our fingers slowly slip away from each other as you turn your head in shame.
I guess this is goodbye.
Let Love Be FreeLet's run away from this musky old town and show our true love to the world.
We can aimlessly wander, free of judgment and hatred. We can finally be ourselves.
Shame can bury itself in a far away land; we can laugh, smile, and kiss whenever we want.
Instead of hiding in the dark, mysterious forest, our love can shine bright like the sun's shining rays.
Our hands can finally form a close bond of tenderness and affection.
Smiles can be genuine, and kisses can be sincere.
Freedom is now our horizon; Our relationship is hidden no longer.
My dear, let us love freely.
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
1:33 amto the angry young
hungry ocean eyes:
i do not wish to know
what crawled inside
your ribs to
i just wish you would
let it leave.
Can you look deeper?You see that girl you just bullied?
The one you harassed over her choice of art?
The art of a man beating a woman to death?
She saw her father kill her mother when she was five.
You know that man who likes to photograph himself in dresses?
The one you called a homo because of his choice of clothing?
Well, his parents wanted him to be a girl instead of a boy.
So they made him dress like that everyday to pretend he was a girl.
You know that woman who writes stories about child rape?
The one you bullied until she didn’t know how to cope with life anymore
Her uncle has been in jail for the past eleven years.
He raped her daily for seven years of her life.
What about that guy who favored abstract artwork?
Do you remember him he liked to use the colors red and black a lot.
He was nearly beaten to death when he was fourteen.
He only knows nightmares because he remembers seeing his blood on the wall.
What about me? Do you remember me? Even just a teensy little bit?
You bullied me because
The Clock of LoveTime is slowly running out.
In my heart lodges doubt.
If I could freeze time to be with you eternally, I would.
If I could re-do my first meeting with you, I would.
The clock is quickly ticking by.
I have nothing by my side.
If I could forever make you smile, I'd try.
If I could embrace you until death, I'd try.
My soul awaits the pain.
Until I can love you again.
If only you saw my true self.
If only you saw nothing else.
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More