|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Tears You shouldn’t cry for the dead; they’ll be sad in the next world if you do.
Wynn remembered hearing that phrase from her grandmother. It hadn’t come to mind for years, truthfully - not since she’d first heard it at her uncle’s funeral as a small child. Those words had been meant for her cousin, but the little girl hadn’t been able to help overhearing them as she sat in the church pews, too young to fully comprehend the situation. She’d forgotten about them for so long, but now they came back to her with the force of a train, reverberating in her head.
It probably had something to do with the tears that were rolling down her face.
Sucking in a shuddering breath, Wynn buried her face against the blanket that she still clutched in her arms. His scent still clung to it, calming her slightly as she curled around it like a lifeline - Rhys. It was the only thing that she had le
Gay Marriage, Mother's Day and There Is Hope!So today the first gay marriages took place in my home country (England); yay! I think it's an absolutely fantastic achievement and I'm extremely proud of my country for granting this basic human right. I think it's probably the best thing David Cameron has done for this country. Of course, it's not going to end homophobia, but, to quote Macklemore it's a damn good place to start. I identify as bisexual, so it's really awesome to know that if the person I decide to spend the rest of my life with is a woman then we can get married. The only thing I didn't like about the news coverage was that they only featured male couples and the reporter said 'Today men have been marrying men'; there was hardly any mention whatsoever of lesbian couples and none of the marriages they showed were lesbians.
Tomorrow is Mother's Day and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that. At least it's better than last year, where someone Up There must have had an awesome sense of humour, seeing as
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More