#Oh sweet child of sea and strife! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tobacconist · 3 years ago

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𝕋he 𝒫rophecies o𝒻 𝔐other 𝒮hipton

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖀𝖗𝖘𝖚𝖑𝖆 𝕾𝖍𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖔𝖓, 𝖓é𝖊 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖑; 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖆𝖘 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖍𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖔𝖓; 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝕶𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖘��. 𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊, 𝖆𝖓𝖉, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖉𝖑𝖞, 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 ��𝖔𝖊𝖒. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖕𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖉 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖆. 1641, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖆 𝖓𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖛𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖊𝖝𝖎𝖘𝖙.

𝒜nd now a word, in uncouth rhyme Of what shall be in future time

Then upside down the world shall be And gold found at the root of tree All England's sons that plough the land Shall oft be seen with Book in hand The poor shall now great wisdom know ... Great houses stand in farflung vale All covered o'er with snow and hail

A carriage without horse shall go Disaster fill the world with woe. In London, Primrose Hill shall be In centre hold a Bishop's See

Around the world men's thoughts will fly Quick as the twinkling of an eye. And water shall great wonders do How strange. And yet it shall come true.

Through towering hills proud men shall ride No horse or ass move by his side. Beneath the water, men shall walk Shall ride, shall sleep, shall even talk. And in the air men shall be seen In white and black and even green

A great man then, shall come and go For prophecy declares it so.

In water, iron, then shall float As easy as a wooden boat Gold shall be seen in stream and stone In land that is yet unknown.

And England shall admit a Jew You think this strange, but it is true The Jew that once was held in scorn Shall of a Christian then be born.

A house of glass shall come to pass In England. But Alas, alas A war will follow with the work Where dwells the Pagan and the Turk

These states will lock in fiercest strife And seek to take each others life. When North shall thus divide the south And Eagle build in Lions mouth Then tax and blood and cruel war Shall come to every humble door.

Three times shall lovely sunny France Be led to play a bloody dance Before the people shall be free Three tyrant rulers shall she see.

Three rulers in succession be Each spring from different dynasty. Then when the fiercest strife is done England and France shall be as one.

The British olive shall next entwine In marriage with a german vine. ... Men walk beneath and over streams Fulfilled shall be their wondrous dreams.

For in those wondrous far off days The women shall adopt a craze To dress like men, and trousers wear And to cut off their locks of hair They'll ride astride with brazen brow As witches do on broomstick now.

And roaring monsters with man atop Does seem to eat the verdant crop And men shall fly as birds do now And give away the horse and plough.

There'll be a sign for all to see Be sure that it will certain be. Then love shall die and marriage cease And nations wane as babes decrease

And wives shall fondle cats and dogs And men live much the same as hogs.

In nineteen hundred and twenty six Build houses light of straw and sticks. For then shall mighty wars be planned And fire and sword shall sweep the land.

When pictures seem alive with movements free When boats like fishes swim beneath the sea, When men like birds shall scour the sky Then half the world, deep drenched in blood shall die.

For those who live the century through In fear and trembling this shall do. Flee to the mountains and the dens To bog and forest and wild fens.

For storms will rage and oceans roar When Gabriel stands on sea and shore And as he blows his wondrous horn Old worlds die and new be born.

A fiery dragon will cross the sky Six times before this earth shall die Mankind will tremble and frightened be for the sixth heralds in this prophecy.

For seven days and seven nights Man will watch this awesome sight. The tides will rise beyond their ken To bite away the shores and then The mountains will begin to roar And earthquakes split the plain to shore.

And flooding waters, rushing in Will flood the lands with such a din That mankind cowers in muddy fen And snarls about his fellow men.

He bares his teeth and fights and kills And secrets food in secret hills And ugly in his fear, he lies To kill marauders, thieves and spies.

Man flees in terror from the floods And kills, and rapes and lies in blood And spilling blood by mankinds' hands Will stain and bitter many lands

And when the dragon's tail is gone, Man forgets, and smiles, and carries on To apply himself - too late, too late For mankind has earned deserved fate.

His masked smile - his false grandeur, Will serve the gods their anger stir. And they will send the Dragon back To light the sky - his tail will crack Upon the earth and rend the earth And man shall flee, King, Lord, and serf.

But slowly they are routed out To seek diminishing water spout And men will die of thirst before The oceans rise to mount the shore.

And lands will crack and rend anew You think it strange. It will come true.

And in some far off distant land Some men - oh such a tiny band Will have to leave their solid mount And span the earth, those few to count, Who survives this (unreadable) and then Begin the human race again.

But not on land already there But on ocean beds, stark, dry and bare Not every soul on Earth will die As the Dragons tail goes sweeping by.

Not every land on earth will sink But these will wallow in stench and stink Of rotting bodies of beast and man Of vegetation crispt on land.

But the land that rises from the sea Will be dry and clean and soft and free Of mankinds' dirt and therefore be The source of man's new dynasty.

And those that live will ever fear The dragons tail for many year But time erases memory You think it strange. But it will be.

And before the race is built anew A silver serpent comes to view And spew out men of like unknown To mingle with the earth now grown Cold from its heat and these men can Enlighten the minds of future man.

To intermingle and show them how To live and love and thus endow The children with the second sight. A natural thing so that they might Grow graceful, humble and when they do The Golden Age will start anew.

The dragon's tail is but a sign For mankind's fall and man's decline. And before this prophecy is done I shall be burned at the stake, at one My body singed and my soul set free You think I utter blasphemy You're wrong. These things have come to me This prophecy will come to be.

I know I go - I know I'm free I know that this will come to be. Secreted this - for this will be Found by later dynasty

A dairy maid, a bonny lass Shall kick this stone as she does pass And five generations she shall breed Before one male child does learn to read.

This is then held year by year Till an iron monster trembling fear eats parchment, words and quill and ink And mankind is given time to think.

And only when this comes to be Will mankind read this prophecy But one mans sweets anothers bane So I shall not have burned in vain.

#dont tell me it was a hoax ive been to her cave #many spurious passages i know but i think her spirit probably guided the works written in her hand #as they do

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mongsanggga · 3 years ago

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Which two Greek gods are your parents?

Poseidon & Eris

Oh, sweet child of sea and strife! Your father guards the borders of the sea, and your mother the vengeful sewer of discord. A life of greatness stands before you dictated by emotion, uncontrollability, and chaos. No man can tell you what realm you preside over, but look to themes of hurricanes and riptides as you grow into your power.

Tagged By: N/A

Tagging: anyone who wants to do this!

~*~

The quiz was taken for muse Hak Jiwoon.

#Burning Each Breath Till I Can't Breathe;; Jiwoon #this was interesting for him #to be done by the other muses

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tessiete · 4 years ago

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Hiii! I'm in love with your Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan fics, you have such a deep understanding of the characters and their relationship in Legends (old EU) canon and Disney canon,too. It's an absolute joy to read your stories about them,I love the angst,I love the hurt/comfort, I love the sweet moments!!! That's why I've decided to participate in the prompt "game" you posted about on Friday. If you're still taking prompts,I really like #18 or #21 with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, ofc. Have a lovely day ahead!

Oh, thank you so much!! It truly does mean so much to here. Writing is never easy, and so often you rely on instinct, and second guess, but I am so sO SO happy that you enjoy my fics. That’s what it’s about after all - they’re meant for YOU! To love, and to enjoy!

And thank you for contributing to that. I hope you enjoy this prompt fill for #18 (”I am alive. I can tell because of the pain.”) and #21 (”No heart is made of stone.”) Much love!

JUDGEMENT

“Do you think they were...kind?” he asks. “In the end?”

And though it pains him to speak, Qui-Gon answers honestly.

“No,” he says. “I do not think they were.”

At this, Obi-Wan nods. The judiciary benches have long since emptied, the crowds roused by a hard judgement, and a swiftly executed sentence. There had been jeering, mockery, and cruel laughter, and Obi-Wan had sat silently by Qui-Gon’s side, wrapped utterly in his dark travelling cloak. There had been no gaze to catch, the somber pools of his eyes concealed by the drape of his hood. Neither had there been a hand to hold, their delicate articulations twisted so deep within the folds of coarse fabric as to be invisible to Qui-Gon’s searching grasp.

Instead, he’d remained stoic, hardly breathing as the magistrate had condemned a young woman to death.

And it had been Obi-Wan’s word which brought her there.

“I do not think that I should be a Jedi.”

The phrase is whispered, whistled through the clenched teeth, and cracked lips of Qui-Gon’s charge. It is quiet, as though he cannot bear the thought of his pronouncement, but it is also clear, and earnestly meant.

On this, Qui-Gon is not so certain as his padawan, but it is not his place to refute him. Only Obi-Wan can do that. Qui-Gon Jinn is a Master, and it is his job to teach.

So he swallows, shifts his weight, and allows the contours of his body to fall into something more relaxed, hoping to coax Obi-Wan along with him. But Obi-Wan does not relent. So Qui-Gon seeks to educate him.

“And why do you think that?”

The boy turns to him abruptly, offended by the possibility that Qui-Gon cannot see how clearly he has transgressed, and how unworthy it must make him.

“Is it not obvious, Master?” he demands, some fire warming his benumbed lips. “I have murdered her.”

“It is not you who has shaved her head, or torn her limb from limb. It is not you who cried for blood. You did not sentence her. You did not bring her here. You did not sanction or commit her crimes.”

“But I told you who she was.”

“Ah,” says Qui-Gon, comprehension beating a percussive note from his lips. He leans forward, elbows braced upon his thighs, his hair trailing over his knees as he sits in deep thought, puzzling out the stars with Obi-Wan. “Then do you suggest it is my fault for alerting the authorities? Or for failing to negotiate a plea, or mitigate her sentence?”

“No!” cries Obi-Wan. The edge of his hood is too slow to keep pace with the padawan’s thoughts, and slips over his ear to catch and expose his pale face to Qui-Gon’s contemplation. “You tried,” he insists. “Even when it made them angry, even when they threatened to arrest you with her - you still tried...I only tattled.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” the master sighs. “Can you not see how cruelly you accuse yourself?”

“She came to me for help,” Obi-Wan protests. “And I killed her for it.”

“No,” says Qui-Gon, firm in this where moments before he has been lax. But then, it had been an exercise, and he had meant for Obi-Wan to reason his way into illumination. Instead, he sinks deeper into self-recrimination, and despair, both of which are far less becoming of a Jedi than an optimistic spirit and faith in his elders. This cannot continue. “You are a child, Obi-Wan,” he says.

“I’m thirteen!”

“And I have lived more than three of your lifetimes, my padawan. Grant me the benefit of the doubt when it comes to accumulated wisdom, both as your teacher, and your elder.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw snaps shut, his eyes falling low. A narrow hand has emerged to pick at a loose thread, worrying the small flaw into a larger fraying edge.

“Yes, Master Qui-Gon,” he mumbles.

“You are a child, and this woman came to you because she knew you would act as such. She wanted sympathy. She wanted malleability. She wanted a defender who could neither judge nor question her.”

“She used me.”

“We are Jedi, Master Kenobi,” he says. “We come to be used. We arrive with every intent to serve. We are here to help in any way we can, as best we can. You helped her.”

Obi-Wan says nothing, unconvinced, but a drop of water, illumined by the sun slipping slowly beyond the horizon, falls hot and shining upon the sea of cloth pooled in Obi-Wan’s lap. It disappears in almost the same instant, only to be chased by another, and another.

“None of that,” sighs Qui-Gon. He is a proud man, he knows, and gruff besides, but he is no stoic, not like the stubborn boy beside him. And he is proud of him. So he does what Obi-Wan so vehemently chastises himself for now: he shows him kindness. He reaches out and pulls his padawan close, until Obi-Wan’s head is tucked beneath his chin, until his cold hands slide beneath the folds of Qui-Gon’s own cloak to feel the heat of him beneath, until his upset is soothed and muffled by the low susurrations of Qui-Gon’s voice, vibrating like tectonics shifting in his chest. “It will be alright.”

“It still feels wrong,” cries Obi-Wan, his anguish drowning in his throat. “It still feels unfair. It still hurts.”

“It will always hurt, young one,” Qui-Gon says.

At this, Obi-Wan’s upset turns briefly to rage, flickering impotently against the sea before being drowned again by sorrow. “Well, I wish it didn’t,” he says.

“Don’t say that,” Qui-Gon chides. “It must hurt. It is right that it hurts. You must know it hurts me too, but that is how I know I am alive - I can tell because of the pain. I would never wish something as awful as apathy on you.”

“Well, I do wish it,” Obi-Wan says, tearful and insistent. “I wish I didn’t care. I wish I was numb. I wish I was ice.”

“Do you think that would help?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I shall tell you, dear Obi-Wan,” says Qui-Gon, his mouth close to his padawan’s ear. “It would not. Ice melts, after all. It does no good to turn away, and leave others to their strife.”

“And yet, everyone here did!” the boy cries. He pulls away to stare Qui-Gon square in the face, his little visage torn and scarred with salt-stained grief. “They didn’t care that she was to be killed.”

“They’ve been hurt, as well,” he replies. “They are also mourning.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “No,” he says, a flat denial. “They liked it. They were happy.”

“And can those things not grow from anger, grief, or fear? Can not the Dark rejoice in the sufferings of any heart?”

Obi-Wan frowns. His tears abate, and he takes a deep, gasping breath before laying his head down on Qui-Gon’s broad shoulder.

“Then perhaps one must not simply be cold,” the child suggests. “Perhaps it would be better to be made entirely of stone, so that nothing at all can touch you.”

“Oh, my padawan,” Qui-Gon sighs. He holds his burden close, and runs his fingers through the copper strands of tangled hair pressed against his breast. “No heart is made of stone. They are fragile, heavy things, and that is why we must be so careful with them.”

#my fic #prompt fill #obi-wan kenobi #qui-gon jinn #star wars #fic

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contagiousprincess · 3 years ago

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i defy you, stars- Chapter 1

“From your first cigarette to your last dyin’ day”

Two households, both alike in dignity

(In fair Verona where we lay our scene)

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;

Whose misadventurous piteous overthrows

Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.

The fearful passage of their death-marked love

And the continuance of their parents’ rage,

Which, but their children’s end, naught could remove,

Is now the two hours traffic of our stage;

The which, if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend

-William Shakespeare

The Whispering Woods were once tangled growth, full of creatures and plants alike waiting for their chance to claw to the surface. The soil was fertile and the air was sweet, but the area was crowded. The so called “whispering” was the noise of the wind pushing and squeezing it’s way through the brush and tightly woven tree trunks. Or, according to legend, it was the noise of the wildlife twisting, changing, moving to confuse lost travelers.

No one was quite sure how the first people managed to make their stake along the banks of the river that ran through the heart of the forest and emptied into the ocean. But they imagined that they had to follow the forest's rules, because otherwise they would have been eaten up and spit out like the bugs that crawled along the skin of the ground. However they did it, those people weren’t alone for long.

Soon enough, another group came to compete, on the other bank of the river. The two different clans of people could have cooperated, learned to help each other, and survived to tell the tale to others. But just like the wildlife and fragrant trees before them, the two seemed determined to push the other down to reach the top, drawing lines in the silence that separated them.

Where before, the forest was one giant, breathing body, a new word was introduced to the area: border. They fought for control of the harbor and the trade route along the river, but they were so evenly matched that no one ever won, instead locked forever in an endless stalemate.

So, the two groups began a bitter rivalry. One that continued for many, many, many years. Long after a bridge was built, connecting the two sides of the river for trade (though neither group would dare suggest it was necessary). Long after The Whispering Woods no longer whispered since the trees were gone and the wind had grown hot and stale. Long after the bugs and skin of the earth was replaced with cobblestone streets and alleys. So much long after, that now when asked what they were fighting over, the groups could not even remember, only that if the Horde and the Alliance ran into each other on the streets, someone would walk away badly hurt or worse.

And this was how on a particularly sweltering hot day, six people almost died.

“Did you just flip us off?” Though most of her thick hair was pulled into a band beside her face, Mermista brushed the remaining pieces of hair out of her eyes, as if to make sure she was seeing clearly, but her dark eyes and thick eyebrows were dangerous, daring anyone to mess with her.

“And what if I did?” Lonnie catcalled, the sound ringing through the street. She was shorter, but stood tall, her boots planted firmly on the street with her hands on her hips. The braids on her head framed her face and softened the defined lines, but there was nothing soft about the way her mouth curled as she taunted the other girl.

“I’d tell you that if you apologize for it, we won’t beat you into a stain on the street.” Mermista stood shoulder to shoulder with Sea Hawk, who might not have been the sharpest tool in the box, but could fight just as well as the next guy. His dorky mustache and dumb boot and bandana combo seemed harmless enough, but he had a tendency to burn down anything in his path. Literally.

Lonnie considered this, and turned to Rogelio, who was broad and as mean as nails, visually and physically intimidating. “Do you think we would get arrested if I flipped them off again?”

“Yes,” Rogelio said simply. A man of few words, so when he used them, it was prudent to listen.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Lonnie looked Mermista up and down and called, “I didn’t flip you off, but I was flipping someone off! Now, why are you still here?”

“You picking a fight?” Rogelio said.

“Me? Pick a fight? Never,” Mermista said, eyes flashing.

“Watch it,” Rogelio grunted.

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because Shadow Weaver is behind you!” yelled Lonnie, suddenly. She pointed, fear flashing across her face. Mermista and Sea Hawk spun around wildly, craning their necks, but they were only met with the normal hustle and bustle of the harbor.

Lonnie busted out into laughter, doubling over and eventually having to sit on the ground to catch her balance and breath. She held her stomach, tears running down her face as her laughs echoed through the street.

Mermista and Sea Hawk turned around, faces red and now so furious, sparks practically flew off of them. Sea Hawk unsheathed his sword and started towards them, but his friend grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, but he still strained against her.

“Oh, we got ourselves a comedian, huh?” Mermista drew her sword and faced them. “Personally, my favorite joke is the one where we pummeled the two Horde scrum into dust and they got washed down the river. The punchline always gets me.”

Lonnie finally started to rise from the ground, and pulled out a dagger. “I’d like to see you try.”

Rogelio turned toward her, drawing his sword, and quietly said “Don’t forget that parry maneuver we’ve been working on. It’s all in the footwork.”

“Not the time, Rogelio! We have bigger problems, like a princess and her big fat mouth!”

At that, Mermista released Sea Hawk, and the four lunged towards each other. As soon as the clang of metal swords started to echo through the city, a young male voice could be heard yelling for them to stop.

After a minute passed with no avail, an arrow careened over the group's heads, making a horrible screeching noise and catching their attention for a moment. Taking advantage of the opening, Bow pushed his way into the center, driving them apart. A top notch archer, the dark-skinned teen was well respected in the Alliance. He wasn’t necessarily the strongest, but agility and cleverness kept him on his toes, as well as alive.

“Everybody back up! Do you have any clue what you’re doing?!” he screeched, desperately holding his hands up in a feeble attempt to keep them from colliding again. He finally managed to wrest Mermista’s sword out of her hand and pushed her and Sea Hawk away from the Horde teens.

“We stand on thin ice as it is,” he said to the two of them. “Whatever the Horde trash did to provoke you isn’t worth it.” Raising his voice, he called, “They aren’t worth any of your time.” He gestured to Lonnie and Rogelio with Mermista’s sword, glaring as he did.

Lonnie opened her mouth to defend herself, but she was interrupted by another member of the Horde.

Scorpia was tall and extremely buff, making Rogelio look like a prepubescent boy. Her shock of white hair on top was cropped close to her head and her eyes, normally kind and warm, were furious and focused. Scorpia, drawn by the sounds of fighting, had started running over seconds ago but now was faced with the sight of Bow pointing a sword at her two friends.

She stormed in front of the two and stared down Bow, who paled upon seeing her.

“Threatening my friends, Bow?” She towered over the other boy, and he craned his neck to see her. ��Hope you had fun, because I won’t let it happen again.”

“I was trying to get them to stop fighting, Scorpia!” Despite their difference in size, he set his jaw and didn’t back down.

“With your sword drawn?” She scoffed. “A likely story! You Alliance brats are always so high up on your horse, yelling about peace, complaining about the fighting but then you come into our territory and attack us when we mind our own business, and I, for one, am sick of it.”

Bow began to speak very slowly and deliberately, as if explaining something simple to a child. “I. am. not. attacking. anyone. But if I was, it wouldn’t be much of a fight,” he smirked.

Scorpia, enraged, drew herself up to her full height, and faced him, head on. “Lets have at it then,” she said, voice deadly even.

Bow hesitated, and then knocked an arrow and drew it. “Fine with me”

Scorpia charged at him, leaping towards his head with her bare hands. Bow quickly ducked and rolled underneath her, coming up behind Scorpia on one knee. Just as her feet hit the pavement, he released his arrow. The arrowhead fractured in midair and split, shooting out a web, the delicate filaments of wire and carefully placed weights searching for a target to ensnare.

The web slammed into Scorpia’s shoulder, biting into her skin and pulling her down, but only managed to wrap itself around her arm, fortunately for her. Unfortunately for Bow, Scorpia grabbed hold of the web and began to swing it, transforming her trap into a weapon.

She advanced on him, taking the weighted net with her. Bow tried to back up and pull another arrow, but she closed in on him, taking advantage of his lack of close range weapons. She swung the web at him, and he ducked the first time, narrowly avoided the second, but on the third she feinted towards his head, changed course and then used her net to sweep his feet out from underneath him.

Bow fell flat on his back, his head hitting the ground with a sickening thud, and Scorpia towered above him. She raised the heavy weights above her and started to bring them down on him, but a shout stopped her cold in her tracks.

A small crowd of citizens had gathered, circling the group, but they during the fight began to chant something that completely baffled the six enemies.

“Down with the fight! Down with the Horde! Down with the Alliance!”

The racket grew and grew, gathering almost all of the citizens not affiliated with either the Horde or the Alliance. The cacophony reached its peak when a horn call sounded and the crowd cleared a walkway and silenced. They stared up in awe as the 3 most powerful people in Whispering Woods strolled in front of them: Hordak, Shadow Weaver, and Angella.

Hordak was muscular but not overly so. He walked with an odd gait, and his greasy black hair and beady eyes that were almost red were disquieting. But he radiated power, and as he walked the citizens bowed. Hordak was the Prince of the Whispering Woods, and he would be obeyed.

Shadow Weaver was the leader of the Horde, one of the feuding groups, and Angella was the leader of the Alliance, the other. The two were both tall, but the similarities ended there. Shadow Weaver was lanky, and had long dark hair. She was clothed in deep red, and wore a mask covering her face. Even though her eyes couldn’t be seen, anyone who felt her stare grew anxious. Angella, on the other hand, was willowy, with long, bright hair. Her face was kind, but sharp. This along with the circlet inlaid with a pearl that sat on her forehead, immediately gave the impression that this was someone who was to be listened to and obeyed without question.

The Prince strode in front of the other two, but they stood as far apart as possible, shooting each other with dark looks that made the citizens uneasy. Hordak, commanding the attention of every person in the street, sauntered up to where Scorpia still stood over Bow. Without saying a word, he flicked his wrist and Shadow Weaver and Angella untangled the two and dragged them as well as the other four to opposite sides of the circle that the crowd had formed.

“Citizens!” Hordak boomed. “I have heard countless complaints about the feud which has led to this incident.” He sneered as he said it, making the fact that the enemies had almost killed each other seem as insignificant as childhood tomfoolery, and in a way, it was. “This ancient grudge has interrupted trade, caused countless injuries, and endlessly fosters riots and unrest amongst my people. It is high time for it to break.”

Angella and Shadow Weaver began to stammer, no doubt trying to pin the blame on the other, but Hordak simply held up his hand and they fell quiet.

“I recognize that I cannot control the… feelings of my citizens.” His lip curled. “However, something still must be done. The city cannot stand with its people constantly fighting in the streets. So, my decision is this: whichever of you causes any more disturbance in my city will pay for it with their life.”

The crowd broke out into anxious murmurings, and the feuding groups began to protest, but Hordak held firm.

“I have made my decision. Now all of you go before I regret not ending you all here and now.” He leveled a glare at both groups and the citizens, who hesitated but began to disperse. Hordak turned his gaze to the women who led both groups and called out to them. “Shadow Weaver, follow me. Angella, I will speak with you later.”

The Horde and Alliance members all hesitated for a moment.

“Was I unclear? GO!” roared Hordak.

With one final glare at each other, the two groups broke apart. Shadow Weaver fell into step behind Hordak, Angella led her Alliance towards the other side of the river, and Scorpia took the Horde members in the direction of their manor.

None of them noticed what was left behind. As they all meandered away, muttering darkly about their respective foes, a clear mark of the fight remained. Though no one could say exactly who it belonged to, it didn’t really matter in the end.

A singular smear of sticky, scarlet-red blood stained the cobblestone street, seeping into the cracks in the mortar, already beginning to dry in the sweltering hot sun.

notes: hiya! im katie and the idea for this fic basically mugged me in the middle of the night and i had to do something about it. this is just a teaser i think theres like a part two of chapter one but it was bulky and i wanted to post something bc why not. im not quite sure what im doing with this fic but i dont care im having fun lmfao. ive never written any fic before so be nice or i will block you i dont give a shit! this will probably go up on ao3 as soon as i can get an invite so for now this will live on tumblr yee haw! anyways lmk what yall think but only if its nice kk byeeee xoxoxo

#she ra and the princesses of power #she ra netflix #she ra #she ra fanfic #spop #angst #romeo and juliet au #mc death #adora #catra #catradora #scorpia #main character death #its romeo and juliet but its catradora #why do i do this to myself this shit bout to hurt

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darkobssessions · 3 years ago

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August 7th, 2021

For shame, for shame cover her hair For honour, for disgrace, don’t you care! What will the neighbours think? What will the family say? Play it safe, keep her sweet Keep her unconscious of the urges that long to tear her from you Reward only that which is acceptable, hope she does not see through you A candy here, a pat on the back there, an allowance for good behaviour A rare unfussed permission to go out She is her mother’s daughter, what will they say if she is anything but? Give her admonition, give her material affection But withhold emotional depth; what could she do with support, if she felt like going after her wayward desires? For shame, for fear, for God’s sake, don’t let her out of your sight And take the cries as proof that the discipline is working A child is a child at 7, 17 and 27 Feed her contradictions, for she does not know better What you don’t face, you give access to paint her skin, to touch her tender soul and fertilise soil for a thorn tree, deeply rooted and thickly knotted And then you wonder where such black will sprouted from How such devil whim makes her disobey, why her face darkens and she withdraws, into a space you cannot corrupt She refuses the candy now, she does not beg She is empty of rebellion, a wilted grain sack You have won, or so it seems; your seeds are a good and righteous daughter Oh the shock, the horror When she escapes, and manipulates and blames Finds herself alive in another’s life, with a man Bends your favour and tarnishes your name She knows not better, as she never learned the word no Though you repeated it with gusto She is lost at sea, ill equipped for the greedy attention unprepared for the conviction of her melancholy Far from home, she is at once liberated and taken over by misery You reinforce the stereotype saying; what happens out there stays there, just don’t you dare bring it home No longer the golden daughter, she has fallen She has been demoted to a role suiting to her wayward demeanor She was given leeway in places you could not touch, but now, under your roof She is called and texted, as thought the roof will cave in if she dares to have some independence And you stamp your feet and cry, childish as you are She has to shoulder the burden of breaking a curse and navigating your displeasure You find it selfish that she found a self, preferring the drowning mess of never, ever leaving the nest For shame, she might turn out to be a lesbian She might defy us, live with a man She might run, and not in the dark either, they would see, they would see Blacken the windows and shroud the doors We tried to protect her honour, and we forgot the girl There beyond a place you can touch, lies her uncorrupted soul After all the toil, the rebellion and the mistakes Is an aspect that was borne of the strife Awoke because of the hardship Connected with an overarching principle, awoke her zest for life and passion Trembling, she may call with abandon that she is a doll no more, a projection of your fantasy, and an acting out of unconscious urge She is alive, she is larger than life She is desires unheard of and unspoken of in such a cloistered community She is deviance and divergence, shame and beauty She is Eros, wisdom, sexual mastery She is the tears that fell and fertilised an offshoot of the thorn tree Beautiful pomegranates, bleeding red A transformation, a rite of passage, a death and a rebirth She is everything you longed to not happen Everything you tried to prevent Scorn, and scorching hate, shame, misery, mastery and delinquent sin She is on top of the world of cracked dolls She is arisen from the whispers and the admonitions She has set fire to your gas lighting and rendered the misperceptions impotent Severed heads, gushing blood, the destroyer, the challenger of every false ideal Come to claim penance for the irreverence of the living God She is, and has always been living in the flesh among you And she rises to a new dawn, unashamedly brazen.

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stagtic · 4 years ago

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WHICH TWO GREEK GODS ARE YOUR PARENTS?

Poseidon & Eris

Tagged By: @pibrequirem, thanks! Tagging: u

#;out of broadcast #;meme respons #blood tw #( god DAMN this is accurate )

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libidomechanica · 11 months ago

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“Went that, spontaneously im fascinated”

A curtal sonnet sequence

And lur’d they were the wild flow and thy best! Joyous, and fed with lots of coral, pebbles milky white finger and said, alas! Beyond a selfish uncle’s wastes life. This turf, and adorn’d of his sheep, leaf and veiling. The Wise, and long captivity angled in a nursing home. What are whose voice in a river. Went that, spontaneously i’m fascinated. His sickness. The weary lady’s eye, or with unaccustomers.

Now wholly, and each simple sheepe to Vivian-place, in moons towards han we none, the ground, then the wood the sheer with me Peace, peaceful end—he robs thee so bright in everyone on his Years—you turn thro’ the alarm broken? A honey seem’d to the dark locks, whom I look’d upon the grave. When theyr sheep. Drove slept. Runs it not, the branches of my arms. As you ask proofe shield her moved the great light and de Vaux of Tryermaine. I the hills a fair!

Wilderness, to crossing spouts up in your mouth of my will tell me Papa. This fiery tears; odour, to sides done: and call my sweep in earth and the Ring of a Chain of my spirit hath set, and the grave. The people I had any such a mountains, and pays it then wrong, and from the Empire, never floor when the morrow, with a rose-garden rails, and a silken flash’d in her love deceives; amid the year’s prison’d flames?

I was awful for loved me home again. I bow fully to this made the dark, the silt and dreary sea now flows between. Felt so gay, and redder the stockes, great morning desolate my waking havoc with most alone. Sixteen shore: but still in that necessary. The age had despised the Stranger, you again, a quarter-sessions for a minute, but for the sees that blighted elms, and the scientified by the palaces!

Winged those are wrong You must as a choice between us to a clue wi’ a hushion; her blue the lady sank, belike halfway summiting wood. Heavy sight turning din past which on warm of his own goddess!—A shine and grief itself, the circle weak the grey-haired and she seeks, that’s the person I love for, live in weeks drop by, and music so sweete Violets thereon she planet, that white that you wander’d strife we squat outside it all.

Willie Wastle gait, making the undress, I scarce extinguish’d his voice a while the World when the will be mine is was persistent as a swoons to this others will make your cradle, you go, and as I pull of wind: she be fair assembly wealth, and dim. When I clung to live in the sunset; O, a shouthern seas I’ll made it an old man’s face rose palm. Welcoming from that will teach strange charm: appears, as each we banter, when you cry.

Our poor lips, which night. That als we mought so happens in empurple twilight of Stephen we went; his pure spirit street its good Algrin, his Bounty, and he spun the pin’d away by the long. The lady, surpassing, a sort of gall, is fancy light my father clipp’d a child wind, thou break it—What, nor this upland hanging something have strew the meant to perish’d? You know, still our vows, and praised, he in this with our rhyme: what way, lest aught?

And thereby is a thousand darting from rage and smiles away by Wordsworth! Beacons from my foe camera flash’d his to plenishing of the upbreathe away; whether at the way to touched, close o’er ear. The Lady of aged thorn; in every well the pink, two white. Bold Sir Leoline, a moment that stooped, and the tomb. A melancholy music so sweet Christabel awoke, ’twas a time, and dolefull want our soul had we both joy!

As breeze: then bedde, or booze. I pray persuade me stood, and folded her forehead call lamb chop yet thy spirit with the grassy harvest register with arms of light laid pausefully down the deepest given; his voice he replied, with the purse of rose shrunk in Absál—her Years not dead; while thus ended, and sighs. Oh turn in either secret knowledge, between you your Bosom she might from them lying over Locks divide what to do.

Quicker element; for let me but endure what hails premier or sea shoreward. Here is, the old, in the mouth of agony of song apollo singe of gone by one moment fancy’s springing the gravest memory kept you from woe to wise casting up sudden breakfast, sat by this tangled in kind discover who could stay—at world’s slow fire upon it? At first weale; breaks the Universe of Better Venus charm, to drain’d.

Comes throbb’d no long! When I a head she was ripened, a charm of woe? Another unnested well-built to rest, the foamy waves a forehead—and emptied on Sally Brow, and barren was rising and set thou in the skirts, its haunt belovèd child was my breast to you do and I saw the trophies of sweetly that the Knight time show why I am borne King sun, thoughts woulds’t, when his merry peal comes upon the many-tower, tu—whoo!

Murmur of all human wit to the Musky Locksley Hall! Of both, Go thoughts my mind from Darkness! Drinking delicious Augury should a fretful of loue. Since my lovers tempests mad, yet look, then no tears you’re love and pain. When at they are the elm-tree fall dream, from the roam’d, with costly I pray you hold his eyes were not speak with their dancing tride, and we shall not hatch her reason be the boat danced vast; and garland angry with clay.

Conceiving with capsules in my bridal Retinue arraigned, if thou away, I am no loyal Life divided from with a Kidde, nor far, ere I chase when then he saw that down, and mouldered a large, who, hard the keeps his world convergences at our desk for down to Camels troop of Oxford up your home, and many a mockers and feed thee! Loom she left the chords will be done burnish’d hooves his flutter’d along; and pine.

Eros harrows my home. That is Algrin, his dreading Splendour survived ever dry; i’ve meaning the who comprehend aright. Thy fingers, weep like a tempest, a land like a ridiculous Earth’s shadow of not pine for the dark valley. Till aver the spite of the too surely in mine; for she told you every shepheard swayne: sike syrly she hover, the deer from paining—they had falls he rising dance for the grand poisoner!

For thee blushing written piled beam. An atmosphere the priest, lead’st thou read love thee, dear. But still so fast asleep, to take him out to proue, but the East, and sweetner art; pleas’d to the Earth and layers that must glory also, and pestle. The horizon’s breasted anchors, helmet-feather to the tried to sailor whom should pleasant word, when still my journey. In the morn; no leaves, and weep! For thee the edge of not thy blood so low their shoes.

The bride in me there, Stella spider in Thee vain are the type of gravity. ’Ve been array’d in Intelligences, of white stick in her say, if the matter; that once, fire again young Endymion with the World of shut eyes, with pansies overwrought is pale, heard clymbers joined cell, of Heaven and singing lover’s fingers, when your inconstant; for the deer from which this throned was beguiled, I know me, the same, as bees gorge.

In white feet emerg’d an unlaments to wandering I sought, in disentanglée. Into piece of pale Ocean bound, so to Camels troop of Oxford hunters her nose and set those for me tossing and crooked knife they have been dreamy urn; farewell, but lov’d friend, thou art a relief. Do whatever’s lost, in amaze of doubt a mind, Goethe’s sacred blood and stranger, you love, I am a shove, and Spirit’s knife, driven, thought: Piffle!

Till the beads I kissed her like any hour; the breeze before me with his face. Shouted the Indian day he is good vse doth stand! Faint when, stupefied, I likewise, wise- valiant, framework scarce had long from the bird and she had done goes all through their darkness? The law in your happiness, which, snatch thee time of doubting on my slain; thou hast the dust lies with such a love is of pursuit? Then, oh then, keen pyramid with a Dagger Thorn.

—If he uttering for the drowned hair are flee, and mock the types; Yes; and below. Yet for other in a glass of quiet slumbering circle, what yokes wi’ a hushion; her web she spell, or that a stone?—Thy worth Farm, past which is lord it, as the ages one the yard, then the books. For who calls at the foamy waves roars, and faded violet even our own. And forth her elbows, smiling tears thereby like to be wroth with all minion.

All stretched through toil thou no evil has been friendly fray, where nis sike a common-sense! So longer blood: it will colors coincide in me wrong, and The Shah;—Salámán’s Eyes a Soothing I feel with his friend, those bondslave told me free comes back this Paphian army in battle; and when splendour, not Corydon no one summer. Carved with the car wind whose silver lyre unstead of those expensive, he lookest in think I shall at last.

To be, simply using you sometimes upon the trader, never spoke, and learnd I love tears with clay, do not; I would lie outside, eating popcorn the heart’s beauty’s pride o’er his eyes overwrought for Perigot, what a learne to her father’s voice; the mowers, round more there divided at the woodbine leaves. Shade answer for my head as he liftedst up from the wurst, but the Eyes in slow pomp; the people ignoring cheek and quiver.

And calumny and inlaid with so dear Midst of it. And Breathes my payned, to the carver’s lips—a fields, he must have I used fifty-nine together thinke Nature we are’ who made out of the tale had fall, the indent sueing tongue in sadness in a nice touch him not all they guess, twas born before than mine; for the web was wont to feede the Prime Spirit he fell in age’s mask went that I cannot live: tell me Papa. Collects here!

Should bring to live it—lower and far beyond my silken robe, and pleasure and shelter of yore. The dreamed: our foreheads private life. And in the soldier too and found. Ye need tow’rd her—but in plaint in thy power like salt Medway his she was like prison gates, admire; warm-light’s in the last cloud which one leg a hand for there compeers, and garland with a stress turn’d, but those accents are safe! And lying, he in the shoes worn down for me.

Thou, might flashed from my Hand, nor be tangled towards han we none, to view the Poet and speech to produce a green enough their passion, the opening each me too the outer weaving took her hair and purpose rudely flew the abysm-birth of a giraffe strength to me, what, if Love flee. Thou wast my horse, perversely our bones the first has an infant’s grave. In your face more. And Geraldine. Lady of Shalott. That looks so oft bynempt.

My foe: I told myself, I could not loveling, serpent’s mouth. Go tell between severed and I don’t know in gloom, she fleet as we speed and love will rock the wreck his shack with seely ships, and mouldering the more with the riches rancke, who all gilded masks? A cloud hath a tooth, to this kicks out. It will ring it above a thrush, repel, silence, and a light provoked, take away.—That wait at region cloud is glimpsed the ruled— some pieces.

When theyr name. Caught what little step beyond! Belovëd, thou less o’ a bright lady, Christabel storm of the cloud, with lewde lorrell, or front: yet to some images I love show how to bind that evil hour warmed we both perish that with the future dark ivy-tresses dance in all that still by your breast, with folded arrow through Halegarth Wood, and whose benevolence she floor with long, or in me. Bone at ane an’ twenty, Tam!

So deeply dawn coming tea and he fell icy numb upon the white flower till the first doth he fynd, there’s none other state, in water-side, praising fire, transformed by the more I feel his king hair glisten to me; taking thee! Spring the Fruit of a giant’s bier she was I clung about the charms of disappoint with another Themis his pilgrimage. Saying, he was mine no trembling with black wing, and they rose again.

To morn e’er return. Hedge, betwixt they part, and the riddles of the narrow of this globe we swains so fair. My goods to consort, when though my breast. There arose in ponderous flesh, all in—all inrail’d these brambles, viewed, a vision is the maiden cheeks as it hath three; and there buried. Dost the midnight as they choke the shopping so high: only I prize. She wept, and stole alone did not the Maiden’s sun stains it into yon farther.

To a lake white hair in lowly twins emerged. And nightingale into a new neighborhood, having sent out to th’ ears do fade awake, yet nearer wayes I withering flower, was full of moss is it blind in charred at the eagle home of the thirst; now pray you write above on from your dwarf. Parted—ne’er so bright, vpon my eyes as she sate, which is the figures seen me go, let me pluck it freendes and there are they my pains!

Such played the comfort scorn o’ your wild and all that thy worth, a light clasp’d hill-side, and while, with cheere, yet, Thyrsis the no less practice. And still; thence: but find cupid a-shooting on the teaspoon to Paris watching in darkness clay and thou look askance an atmospheres of death felt their fellow- leaved were in a room fair. How we see a little heard in me hastes, and prettie death-bed shew his flown, many flowers that speech: Ah!

And a newe mischance, but of the golden skies about, alack! Since erst, and Adoration, the clear and passing petals of sweet, the Cumner cowslips grew—Away! The maid had swerve from one joy, even now, to take two side: tis beyond such fond fann’d and winged Chieftain! She left sudden ring of dull a cheeks delay, tis the hot cornfield to dispel a thousand years which doth devout and she sees that payne, to shining din past thou, cried.

World I lean, and flowers brightly from the Reason; Lust thews immortal destiny! Strength to wants the enemy Fraunce; her lie long distance all misgone, hey ho the Empire, never has sufficient weightless breast, and unawakens the morrow, if to look down to each matin bell give the Vision of the diamonds. Would lie down. For the many reptiles spawn; and known power to each in your heart? When the Banquet of my soul!

No more; with anemonies in my soul stand incesses did fall the remedy? A heart and for westerne Apollo sing, but I forgot. Organ in Beijing but what a loath’d her pale yellow months in thine at me with expected all years alone every steel, most him so hugely stood tributes to and fame fastened dead, and winter warm pulses, and know thyself nor thunder- tents the next day the burying rookery home.

I would run right as rain. On her madly; and scuds alone time dimm’d or shar’d its marched our hollows greeted him, it is for I brought him vp with his tottering for a moment I remember than a tooth kissing? And warm you-smell, and Geraldine, which is love appears, like a swarms the earth o’ergrown with light, and terrors manifold divided meteor, trailer from Matter belt, forgetfulness deadly cryes which cannot tell.

While, half-listening beside remote Shalott. This fairy, Dust to you sleep together. In humanity. Herbs, garlic, cheese are scatter’d straight reason is bent, but for thy narrow sped or more; nor hopeless in thy grave. ’Er that shall me Papa. The soft Form that touch. All into the hill? He said, you— tell us what she was, as being these? But still the dying fit again the earth the dim forest is chill blast. Trust the “Behold!

Is charm of words to wander’d strange sight thus! Ah, what sees.—Then the mountains, breast, the village streames my pouch I hate what achievement from me, and now at the lady Geraldine again of Ten Intelligences, of which not seen, direct how to follow Echo of my hand, as if you waited tree—sir Leoline, that nimble leap to kill white Queen of mistletoe, and no child was the contention went: and aye, by new- born Circe!

Or the Animal crack like a Crescent spheres of yet; and wake. I deeme ech turning a dearnest as though to spangles, just a walk about, the weaveth steady stone greeting trial was sharp knuckles, said she reaper, reaping something just foundations with silver bugle-horn. Nor can her like it. The sun; thou may’st plain; she liefest boye, how doleful citadel, sham’d by Michelangelo, done that once, upon the words you once possessed.

If John Nebel arguing frame destroy’d. I dance, but have sunk, extinguishing in thine. Later I abide; the many noise about thy hand thus express Wi’ having it from Camelot. Pale with a hissing saw what are extinguish to vain thy gold sands took the car wind Most music so sweethearts before, loveliness. She things here. His loathes my stores, and used, the Tree! And shall mark you enter’d, saying plain it. In darkness!

And where with her long stand is cast down into my o’er-sweetest bed, full of a whale was asked: Spindles the serious riddles of her to me: then they feel them back if one side and passion worse than in her whispers, Tis the cold beneath over lie in tenderneath the shalbe the guy with the lover’s caress within she feasted are all be she weal and ached our head: she knew the Virgin and rue, and hear her dress. And in comes form.

’St a bride, a trooping soul of a large Hercules would under in it, O ’tis passions to accepted sacrifice touch him not! Let in vain; He answer meek surprise, the gently open’d soul page after page. When theyr sheep, and told my Heart. I’m thine eyes, now, if we lie on the best voice not from that sawe it, simply nor any bed to spring; but better than his, as earth; the mournful pleasant in vain; like a split broiler.

The Long in her vain the urn once hath no stair to see us passing, and the saddle- leathers were silent sphered grasp’d the starving so fast fa’ the air, the haggard scent of my life is gone; there lay twelve for he is fingers, and to testify the helmets, break the best, and all you are dights hers! Wisdom his brother, that the spoilers tempt shallowing of the savage that echoes render friend who did end, all Kent cathedral.

All night is clasps his silvery showers. And burning for what if evolution’s fundamental farce! Your sleeping from the great Mother’s bareness ever loves so well fish through Turner’s England, left sudden hand; gold of progress? Of telling soul cut moment of remember I don’t underground; he saw the Past, but some and various game: imaginations’ airy bourn of Mortal though suffocating them against me.

Cook Helen, why choose to be, so fairest boye, how doleful tale with soft across it— and that it has the Boston to the thine: see how languid fool, who is my mind of many more, where? The you see how crystal- smooth arms that echoes worn down the Night of all their end, thou shall at one hour; the azure sky, and all have put a rapture to stay. That would under head, the other dear maid and hates a cast-iron pot. See him her well!

My sheepe in good youth untimely mistake? In eyes from Him—by Him direction prove her kennel beneath my sorrow; from my head, some relief, the boss of sweet finger than I could I discoursing, a constancy light. You like Jewels polish-sharp, and lov’d is prior to him in awe, and leaves, hey ho Bonibell, five rusty teeth from Canaan: the night. Why was they met, and years of mine is solemn joy, thy sleepe. Softly, fluttering.

Where should I discourses; scaring light, in spite thee lonely your dog and speaking coarse affrayed, and thou alway. Then the morn in the clock was her arms devour head moving payne doth stand the mastiff old lay fast bound it round in which gave thee stop here, and hands clasp from me, Most music, music and steer and his lute: his and up his eye. Illicit emails, ton entangled thread again. She liv’d and thus by such doubt my sense and faint!

I say Drink Me I say is a hand-breed short howls, not say: in the tears, and like photography, their throne, they say, into a hemline. That move lies the lady’s maid. For the worketh answer as if to pleasures. She sweet pains rise, good as meeke mought our delight, where heard Haste, while his e’e, kens there not entirely; no, thy soule, thou now? Who has not Rosalend? A pear, or is it not so fair. He had offence cameras want to more?

A total opposition? Like the beachcomber in The Sage hide, so freshness, not easily as holy hylles to see unfollows like hath powerful fragment up, as me; for the cliffs. Battle-flags were some without a sight as fills with their leave mercy? And leave shut down to Camel rode, and both haves of men procure; and pleasaunt springs But could he give me so. Brow, and more brings that nods and de Vaux of Truth God of sight.

Swept strength to a shall iudged beams: rose from her blushing accent his fills within the Scales, and marriage. The moth of May; the forest on? In her white flowers, all the suffers according their fire, pulling door of element; for such a brave: and point to bear the dead and sagged like an out-of-tune worn viol, a gold-dusted of a turtles, until final gulphing white thy repose. That style could ever you see, on one little step?

To heare a dome of truth; and Geraldine. I touched in a schoolboys’ barring hair! Thus she shepheards that a pleasure made of rest: low lies the water unto me only midnight find and who pierc’d thy infinity, promised the walls I have wended; I have sooth’d her words bene stay’d his heart. And still it began before Shirúeh’s Feet drencht in microbes concrete too weak as she lay, what lie on the midway from the Reputed Son?

That sweet mass’d the husband is cast down the shall have such a cursing from Sir Leoline? Growing one and sky: this to the tomb for thy heart, and pretty at each in other prest my weary heart’s corpse, touched in the Bankrupt worst if her dreams so pleasures flow in part, I wait whole days’ white finger and forms to live not the first doth she wept, of sweetest lyrist of all thirst; forget the princes waiting oaks. The goodnight this task of my arms.

I know; but one side of Sighs, the visions and rumbled down into purgatory to live on pity angled the first he left pulses be back to a human eye: for what shine, or who should it move to loue on the youngest said: sunk, extinguish’d breath upon that thus so clear, eterne coste? He answer as if to stairs at three figures on the sheath they that moaned more they would you see, many steep’d in vain,—to blend and vain for her!

He came, ere from aery strange in zero gravity, who had come as still told often, often: after these brambles pale as the ocean-bed. And if I give what was extreme, the grim Avenger spoke not for thee all we have been writing whale was a woman, abler none hears there was left without the tiny earth, smiles, if dimples, to slackening mind, of her weaving, I will come to me only in the stains the molecules.

Our youth, beneath the trip and never be bared the Minstrel bard to his line, and like name again young woman, abler none; fair- haired and mire, scheming immortality. That white Queen of pearlins and mild, and when thoughts, like salt over all, and moved the youth and the carved steal about into the poor infant’s space to publics, revolutions, hissing snatched against fearless note, can scarce uplift it sinks dull dense a brave expansion.

Shall not dead of the most perfect straight he sun are twine. Tis said, My cousin, all the death-bed, In such a plack on the Topic over there’s none other’s name, I hate and creeps for ever pour’d the little man. My dream, from the Sire of dirt is past mud, the appease to my weary lady Geraldine, had joinèd hands and years and I close o’er the dancing comely Youth beauteous pass’d to make fire out in part; but whether in mine!

The swallows green, coffee in a madness in such this horse willowy hills beneath a cloud I forgot. Hear it from thy fair eyes fix’d on the young man of thy flockes to all the raingear wrought I hear her dear a head upon the ear confounds stranger yet she shoulder’d on the sounding from the book, those unheard cries with two white feet emerged. Because you could; for frosty air is fills and Tygres, the smoothly to wish that thy best!

A fleeting vision, this sourse, high over ear. And longing out the midsummer night. On the foeman’s knee, for Cupids fine exist in Prague sign their cradled as a cast- iron pot. How channels of youthful pleased my heart was misting triumph’d the through camps and with his poor struck a wounds with joy to his blessed them has long as yet t is early blank. Hence without pains! Of green enough so thou read they to whom near can hinder than I lie.

The pond, rappings past rest of her Bosom utter’d createst Gogmagogs, with a Dagger Thorn. That would that inhabits you seem’d to chisel hitting upon these love can crack open fire, are but the carven steps o’erflow; Whence could ever down-glancing and then as he, They ’ve takes glimpse at his graven they, hast the church unthinking for the locks at your worth nor frost and stormy east-wind rushing in her and fears, four forehead live!

The line, theyr wonted fingers, and aye, by new-mown. To make some lips for a criminal. Other, soon the villagers quickly array and mountains, and this foly one hour mind, their prey. She is forehead cats float my bondslave is my hart is ill assay, and havins and strove to be! Not on a row and she succeeding me from your disputes, distress, and sold giving breast more, hey ho the High Court of earthly doom, the heap of earth.

Its passage of the earth. That like incarnations meet, all blind voluptuous poisoned round him without a parchment of his your desk for heart’s death the chase eternally appareling all that we found it, and stab, a king. Whither, lord is weary, drear murmur, betwixt the old, in the knowledge, between sea and hanging it will strange diagonal, and I wither; sic a wife is glancing to hersel very strange journey.

—The stars, when the process of the trip and never will gentle child, making th’ unwilling in it. Cried: The darling, now in arraigned, To that err from Vesper of our life decay, and what sees to accepted sacrifice? But throw down ye knows, as if to know not here and leaves the World beside remote Shalott. Then blowe your lens the many of us, they ’d made that deale of Christabel!—All the ballad from the beauty?

I say is a desperate shot. Then bloom thou love, mostly I am old, to clean. So he died, those destroyed. Stay yet her like his winter’d alone upon the grass, stood by a black sacrament of it. Grappling Doues, guide. I’ll sit me dead. My child will not perfect it shall at dawn acropolis so perfect straightway passions that the woodmen heart? A magic sight. The line, and embracing, didst rehearse. Maybe not one. The Sage.

Fool, your bones, o’erwrought and once weight and some say, into swear, each leads the might? The will be done goes all are dark lair of the lightning, mellow woods were my life who make those tape separating my sails, the bearded barley and pride, sing the stars we speak for down to ever could ever panting wonder’d the hot cornfield and me the gray walls mould me from Canaan: they help the water- course, active scorn to saintly sway has been dreamed not.

But lov’d on Nature’s soft sheepbell tinkling, but all the sun from ever a passion ev’rywhere, pleasing from my though that sawe it, the melancholy; until it scared but in honest mind. Which he could, said to its kind of watermelon, but the blue the free home to the tree, why is your eyes upon the decks of iron—when let me feel of the sage mind as if not I? The regality of Neptune’s favorite aggies.

Such sorrow with one agreed. Centre, dart the Pez Dorado, the lamp the great relief, luxuriating pale oblivion, the swarms the way right peeps from ours, and with costly roots are wise a dryad. A power befall, they neede hem caren forewent, telling-place, a baby’s face, in the bed fallen on Marlborough the West. She must do the wonder. No longer sits, but wise and beauteous heap’d up its haunts, outlive it a sigh’d!

Just as these thou leddest Orpheus thrown? Wind, a shell fish most musical tennis mates; shaped to bliss death from his pulse, for the lagoon. And shelter of the cry?—And throstle’s lattered voices were still, and when the water, some civic mantles render no song ago was my cousin, shall been the chord of fallen May and then should a Father sadde. God of which seemed to drag it to me-to the though a screen on the sworn as all.

Had leave things. Breath I leapt something it is a hyll dyd beare with sound. The stake out the tenderneath thee? Can I think of its cold, which the wine. Perchance cancell’d woe, they sip from Camel rode, and targe; rudders that thou dare thyself might from place you see thy hand, which here I give no thorn, the flocks at the oak. The very weel aff, On golden snake Memory? It was as grain in the devil hour or hail, or a charm. Go and the sky. Wood.

Admire hounds, do I envy of our like figure outliving Water light and, pitch’d and real thing farewell, as down as love, a humid eye, unused to its to pleasured it felt, yet more immediate matter the priefe. Out the hen-dove shalt mix with hold communion tablets has grow very where Titanic strife we squat outside and with you, that closed our tree-topp’d with commence, this week I have hid my ripe for ever county!

He speak again! Let men the hill of child was the lovely colour’d on the snoopy man and married and friend then the prettie death, which I thought, confident sun hurried two bodies ruined clenched fists. Too rare, grow up from mortal who can blame, for I dipt into begin joy was taught and pale ghosts—their tomb the immortal! A kerchief sae douce and fallen on Marlborough the Future far away, and the horizon— where Adonais.

But shepherd’s tongue as birth of a burning on a decent pression to the slave is thine, not Corydon no one is still our voice was of old-lipp’d her? The pain … Do what avails the copse and heavens on his silent throw my woe, when I likewise, and the narrow house by thy fear the strong the people doth were dares KING of this cumbrous look upon this Balkís; the random scheme as well to see raises toward heavy raid on Hampstead.

The mother womb where we are not wrong; saying, Oh. Many charities, and purpose, easy thing. And in her say, the purple orchises, hath shall harmonized tune my spirit that kept you from death. And forth the riddle there? What is not perfected. I cannot live: tell her eyes did we went, unterrified, I read aught? Slides thee hence depart; but someone’s brown has when the go- cart. But this piously all lovers lay our string?

In the ants, with your string spouts up in my heart, lost it too smaller. Apollo, from the robs thee, yet soft as a Thought their Beauty breathing flower-nibblers, to know I find it his mute observed forth light, and Adoration wait whole her fading talk like fleas off like corpse, touched, close at him—Hysterical,— he breeze before her voice of the midnight into his books, you have? Having seaward, and smite the dead before her in the dust!

” Then if we lives give the love must have seene. Now let me from Káf to Káf, down he knew she undoing through the guitars it shall at once an angel, singing him aright, she nippit her own rolls! Truth, unsullied by daylight into golden prime, liuelier iris change they shot awrie! How like a Miss America Contest. These words of same, my heart heaven’s sun hath risen, o Geraldine, she were all forms that alone sinks behind.

Than a gravest citizen seen. The princessant by thee with men mischaunce be sent out I ran and old Eolus would lie down as love, and hideous he state comes not gone; when, Day over, and far beyond the beast wide home weigh’d, and with vases, tongue of hell! Let it shall flow envy of our heard the sighs, I cannot tell, or front it far from thee by putting up the artery of mist weale; break and far beyond the shadows!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #147 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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