• Café Life is the Colony's main hangout, watering hole and meeting point.

    This is a place where you'll meet and make writing friends, and indulge in stratospherically-elevated wit or barometrically low humour.

    Some Colonists pop in religiously every day before or after work. Others we see here less regularly, but all are equally welcome. Two important grounds rules…

    • Don't give offence
    • Don't take offence

    We now allow political discussion, but strongly suggest it takes place in the Steam Room, which is a private sub-forum within Café Life. It’s only accessible to Full Members.

    You can dismiss this notice by clicking the "x" box

Poetry eternal fatality

The World Between the Words
Invest in You. Get Full Membership now.
Pride
Seeks to prove
I am a god,

So I twirl ice around my finger,
Kindle a storm to life.
Small, a flurry of velvet flakes,
Still frigid,
But never supposed to be fatal.

Inside, ecstasy cries I’m a master,
Outside, dread whispers You're a fool,

As nature breaks its globe,
Transforms into blizzard—
A beast that refuses to settle
When I turn the world upright.
Crystal sharpens to daggers,
Pierces those I love,
Paints hell anew.

Not rose-pink or sunset-pink.
Pink of blood backdropped with snow.

When fury dies in its time.
A silent grave remains.
All I can do is
Extract a thousand knives of ice and
Offer my breath to heaven--
Too distant--
In exchange for yours.

If there’s a god, I am not he.
He will not hear me.
They will not hear me.
You will not hear me.

Where is The Lake of Fire?
Where is The One Who Fell?
Only I exist in blinding wasteland.
Numb and undying and burning with cold.
This is justice.
 

Further Articles from the Author Platform

Latest Articles By Litopians

  • Stakes
    What are Stakes? Stakes refer to what characters stand to lose or gain as they pursue their goals. T ...
  • Until I find You
    As one wise Litopian recently said to me, ‘Titles SUCK!!’ When I wrote songs, I never had a prob ...
  • She Loved Me Not
    . Last night I dreamed of Samantha Who tore at my throat like a panther Then she started to chew My ...
  • Both Sides of the Postcard
    The sand is white and soft. The palms sway gently. The turquoise water glitters. The happy traveler ...
  • What’s in a game?
    6When my son was a toddler, he threw the mother of all tantrums at my childless friends’ house. I ...
  • The Shadow Durian
    As a lifelong foreigner, I’ve learnt that being open to new things smooths the path considerably. ...
  • Goodbye Eeyore, Hello Tigger
    Granny was churchy. She grew up in an era that saw living by the Bible as an important British chara ...
Back
Top