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A Day For RedemptionThe Vampire Diaries. Elena/Elijah.
Takes place within season 3 and into 4. Three-parter.
This ship may have sunk long ago but fear not!
I brought life rafts.
It was always about the little things. The parts of a woman most men would look over in search of the more commonly sought out attributes. While she carried the unrelenting natural beauty of her ancestors, to him, it was the way her voice of reason reached his ears before she spoke; how she tucked away his promises deep beneath the determined cross of her arms over her chest and kept them there faithfully. And in the warmth of her eyes; he'd never seen a sight so magnificent as when they lit daringly with her negotiations, as if she didn't already expect his compliance to whatever obstacle she chose to throw in his path. As if he were no threat to her at all.
He had always held a tender spot for such a fire.
What he hadn't expected was for her to match him in the skill of observation to an almost unnerving lev
Our Darkest Days Ch. 1"The one bright light in Asgard is its darkest soul."
Within lies a tale of darkness and strife.
And unimagined change.
He hung his head over the book in his lap, dark unruly hair spilling over drooped shoulders. He had missed the distant explosion entirely.
Though his eyes searched the pages, their contents were lost from his sight. Foul memories took the place of words, playing over and over again without fail. Plaguing him as he sat simmering – rotting away in a tomb of white. Handcuffed and gagged before being stowed away in a cage as if he were nothing more than a unruly beast.
What he always had been in their eyes he supposed.
He had only tried to master the task that befell upon him. The task he had been granted on the day of his birth.
He would have finally had a kingdom of his own without the foolish Allfather or his wretched brother there to get in his way. It was so close, he had almost tasted it. A bright glimpse of glory o
PushYour methods are punishment
the way your words fooled
a snug chest cavity into
If I could mislead you, I would not
with a sharp-tongued allegory
but with the intimate force
of two small hands
Searing overburdened shoulders
fingernails against blades
reading ruined skin
one last time
Delicately severing our
CowardiceI found I still enjoy the swing set…
Guess I’ve never really been grounded
while that song of ours played on the radio.
I really felt it though.
It was as if you where there again.
Like you never left in the first place,
that contagious smile still splitting your face
Reality set with the falling sun…
My stomach growing sour as I swayed
the pattern reminding me of the one I broke.
The sickly sweet laugh that made me choke.
How am I supposed to sleep sound now?
Knowing that as this day gives to night,
I have simply turned my back toward right
In VeinThere is but one
That I let in
Free to crawl
Under my skin
You twist, you turn
Through every vein
Blood and shame
It's what you do
My gift to you
I am me
With you within
In need of you
Under my skin
How hard it is
Being so strange
myself, in vein
You love me,
Love with pride
Bury my wounds
Not your eyes
Monster and the Martyr Ch. 1 A Vampire Diaries fanfic.
The door creaking open resonated throughout the hollow frame of the rickety farmhouse.
She rose from the couch she had been sitting as still as possible on, waiting anxiously for what was to come. The vampire that they claimed put all others to shame. All but one.
The nearing echo of languid footsteps drew her attention to the entry way. Her heart raced faster in her chest as the sound grew louder.
He entered first, Rose and Trevor keeping their distance behind him as he came to a short stop at the sight of her. Cold eyes took her in, holding her own with an intensity that sent ice clear to her bones. She just barely had time to register the surprise on his features, nearly matching her own, before he vanished from view.
Faster than Elena could blink, he was before her. Inches from her. Towering over her. Cold eyes hardening to stone as they flickered across every inch of her face.
He filled her senses. All she saw was black. His tailored suit. The sce
Pain InflamedI found a sheet of paper
and filled it with my pain
words then turned to ashes
as the letter danced in flame
The pen dispersed my anguish
shading once blank pages black
my cramped, determined fingers
fought to end hidden attacks
A match struck at the corner
sent my sorrows glowing bright
the dark swirls of redemption
spiraled to refreshing heights
Remains were sent to Heaven
lifted upon a gentle breeze
my fingers slightly blackened
my troubled heart set free
Tortured SoulI have found myself somewhat careless
the way my mind softly whispers your name
how I now have to struggle to hold you in
my clenched teeth, your prison sentence
Failing, my mind conjures up false delusions
your presence, your brow furrowed in thought
your eyes testing my wit, jaw taught with want
for these precious moments of mine, you exist
Standing just steps from me, still unreachable
my own personal torture, yet I revel in it willingly
the distance between us, my unyielding bonds
feet glued to where they now tremble, my lashing
Such a silly mess, to fear one's own creation
my heart screaming your name in frantic beats
watery eyes fasten shut, until alone once more
though the spirit that is you still flows within me
ResignationDowning milk like gin
sleep fails me again
due to a heavy heart,
an alliance torn apart
This hallow night aides
as the darkness invades
your half of our flame
now doused by my shame
I toyed with your hand
like I did with our plans
their undoing, my fault
wounds laced with salt
I loved you; still do
but there is more to you
than this tragic little town
and me holding you down
I think of 'you'Peering out my window, noticing, the lilac bush in full bloom.
Picking up one of the soft petals
and raising it to my nose;
the air is 'warm'
the fragrance sweet...
I think of 'you'.
The day is lazy.
Soft music comes drifting by my window
from the house down the road.
I notice the gentle hum of the queen bee
as she feeds off the flowers,
and the soothing monotony of the crickets song.
I am so 'aware' - of 'life' taking place...
I think of 'you'.
The cemetery's aglow, with bright flowers,
and fresh, young graves...
I walk, down the mental paths of my mind;
the sun, shining warmly upon my hair, and face.
The birds, ask and answer - the sweet questions
only 'they' understand; as, I walk.
And the tomb stones, look back at me
introducing themselves by name,
welcoming, my company;
'offering', perfumed fragrant gifts
as a symbol of life...
Lifting one, to my nose.
Smelling it's gentle fragrance, and touching it's soft
EnvisionIn my thoughts I'd 'hope' for you....
I wish we could have been...
I'd close my eyes and see in my mind
an ever so sweet envision.
The truth had come to me too late;
though looking back in the blue
the feelings stir, inside me again,
the beautiful ways in which I'd seen you...
I was as a mountain
peaked, with soft white snow;
til the Spring of 'you', came into my life;
then gentle waters flowed....
And went with me
through valleys and streams
of my life, I'd never seen before.
Our differing ways, just intensified
to show me more.
I learned a whole new world of 'me'
things, you already knew...
Of the sun in the sky
it's effect to warm.
You 'showed me' the sky of blue.
I learned of the birth of flowers
as they opened, to the dawn.
I knew then what it was to smile.
You taught me, and then you'd gone.
And slowly I looked about me
at everything that you 'were'.
All the beautiful things
of which, together; helped me
to paint your picture.
Then I understood - and felt the wa
Serenity's AngelI am she, Serenity...
Thou knowest not my beauty.
But if ye sought the face of the Lord
surely, I would come to thee.
My wings are bound and chained
to fly, only, unto the sincere;
whom have searched with the angels
of Patience, and Mercy; and Truth,
for the key to my seal.
I reside not, in the halls of vexation,
nor do I neighbor with wrath.
I know only the ways, of love and justice
and all they of whom, such qualities hath.
I flyest through the beginings
unto the ends of the earth; my candle
an eternal flame.
Given to me of the Lord
SEEK HIS FACE
and share my name.
Internal FireThis day will remain until the end
The time will dry and wilt
Soon the dawn will break
I will be remembering how I felt
My fragile soul will eventually shatter
And with ash I will be surrounded
From the flame that is burning within me
punishing me for what I have hounded
Sleepless nights have gotten under my skin
I am becoming thin and pale
My lips can hardly stretch for a smile
I am tired
I am frail
The sun no longer gives me warmth.
The moon cannot help me breathe.
My soul is departing,
I am ceasing to be.
Closed DoorsLeave me alone
Let me lose
Myself in the ocean
Where I will be
Let me stay
Away from the clock
Of our days.
Of the reality
Waiting for me
With a knife.
I don’t want
To leave behind
The best years
Of my life.
What I like
Fades it out.
Soon will be
Dust these words
In your memory.
Watching the RainI have this strange feeling
in my stomach, knots are twisting
my heart is doing its revealing
but somehow I'm not existing.
I am stuck within a lonely room
listening to the drops of heavy rain
clinging to my skin is a deep gloom
happiness is not something I can feign.
Like the rain, the solitude persists
I am being left behind again and again
all I can do is tightly clench my fists
will I be forever stuck in the rain?
The sun might not break through
I need the light to grace my skin
and it will be unlike anything I knew
perhaps I might even be able to grin.
Until then, I'll watch the rain from my view
and these vicious knots will get tighter
waiting eagerly for the sun to become anew
but thank goodness I'm a fighter.
less or morea little darkness
tugging at my sleeve
trying to bring me down
and get happy to leave
a cloud eager to rain
upon my parade
a simple game
of less or more afraid
if I doubt
the things I know
my candle will
if I fear
their empty threat
I'll lose myself
to nagging regret
Saving HerSave yourself, because I can't save you.
You are drowning in your own sorrows,
Lungs burning with the need for air.
Your wrists feel numb,
inviting you to cut deeper.
You pull your hair out,
Scream into your pillow at night.
You have stomach ulcers,
Light one cigarette after another.
You look in the mirror and see the ghost you have become,
Sickly smile at yourself.
You give your body freely,
Even if you hate it.
You lift your chin high,
But let your heart drag on the ground,
Kicking stones away,
While tripping in your mind.
Falling, you laugh.
Not even bracing for impact.
I Am, Am I?Am I to die, am I to sleep?
Am I to swim in pools so deep?
Am I to smile when I should cry?
Am I to fake oaths for the Sky?
I am the Ground that broke apart;
I am a Tennessean heart.
I am an empty ventricle,
I am a pointless article.
My chipped polish is ancient blood,
My hair bow shields me from the flood;
My scratches glimmer in the light,
My bruises—such an ardent sight!
I am pointless, I am content,
I don’t mind falling through the vent;
If others join me down there,
It will beg me to disappear.
Our Last ChanceIf the world turned its back on us
and God chose to resign
I would find a way to show you
that you always have been mine
As mountains fall into the Earth
and lives are ground to dust
I will bury words within your skin
while deflecting your disgust
Fires render oceans dry,
bodies in their wake,
You and I alone remain
with one frail chance to take
Toppled buildings, shattered glass,
the last rain we'll ever see,
but your fear of us cuts deeper
than all the sky hurls down at me
So when the world comes to halt
and pitches one last fit
whether in this life or not,
we will make it.
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchin
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