Yeah, im trying to write something. ♥♥♥♥ me, right?
Anyway, my first untitled poem:
---
The red clad girl holds her hand up high
Her twisted face screaming 'Die!'
She stares into their panicked face,
and laughs, clenching her hand, crushing their eye
A gory fest as their guts start to fly
Then she froze up and was still
Before she walked up to her kill
Her eyes start to water as she cries,
'Not another toy broken, its so unfair!'
She stamps her foot, but then calms down.
She licks her lips and grins wide,
'This one is done,'
'But I guess I'll get another one.'
---
R&R kthxbai
Lr's Pathetic Attempts at Presenting Prose
Forum rules
This subforum is here for you to post up your poems or any creative writing based doodles or short stories you may have written.
This subforum is here for you to post up your poems or any creative writing based doodles or short stories you may have written.
Lr's Pathetic Attempts at Presenting Prose
by spookyghost » August 20th, 2012, 7:52 pm
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spookyghost - Code: Awesome
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Re: Lr's Pathetic Attempts at Presenting Prose
by Ridder » August 21st, 2012, 9:00 pm
Oh I see you have stuff. Ha.
Flandre stumbled about like the clumsy thousand year old shut in she was.
She somehow managed to fall into the outside world.
There were moving boxes and dapper gentleman everywhere. She felt out outnumbered.
She smiled a sinister smile, and she was all like, " ohohohohoh...... So many toys-" and then a poor lower class looking bumps into her.
"GRRRRRRAAAAAHHHH, WHO DARES?" She glares at the young boy.
"...Oh...uh.....s...sorry!" the kid blushes.
Flandre was no amused. "YOU DIE NOW."
And poor lower class kid sploded just like she made that other person splode only moments ago.
His guts flew everywhere, blood staining a huge blot on the sidewalk. Small bits of flesh littered the ground here he once stood.
Flandre cackled. No one partiularly cared.
Oh, and then the small Gibs and bloody parts that sprang from the dead kid slowly reassembled on the blood spot.
Within seconds, the John Oliver-ish kid Flandre has imploded was fully reassembled and looking the same as ever.
"Well," the kid cricked his neck. A bit too far by normal standards." That was different."
It was in this momment Flandre slowly started to make a huge grin on her face as she realized she was dealing with a breakable toy that could fix itself. She proceeded to get intimate and familiar with her new slave.
Flandre stumbled about like the clumsy thousand year old shut in she was.
She somehow managed to fall into the outside world.
There were moving boxes and dapper gentleman everywhere. She felt out outnumbered.
She smiled a sinister smile, and she was all like, " ohohohohoh...... So many toys-" and then a poor lower class looking bumps into her.
"GRRRRRRAAAAAHHHH, WHO DARES?" She glares at the young boy.
"...Oh...uh.....s...sorry!" the kid blushes.
Flandre was no amused. "YOU DIE NOW."
And poor lower class kid sploded just like she made that other person splode only moments ago.
His guts flew everywhere, blood staining a huge blot on the sidewalk. Small bits of flesh littered the ground here he once stood.
Flandre cackled. No one partiularly cared.
Oh, and then the small Gibs and bloody parts that sprang from the dead kid slowly reassembled on the blood spot.
Within seconds, the John Oliver-ish kid Flandre has imploded was fully reassembled and looking the same as ever.
"Well," the kid cricked his neck. A bit too far by normal standards." That was different."
It was in this momment Flandre slowly started to make a huge grin on her face as she realized she was dealing with a breakable toy that could fix itself. She proceeded to get intimate and familiar with her new slave.
THE CREED: Nothing is True. Everything is Permitted.
"...That's rather cynical."
"It would be if it were doctrine, but it is merely an observation of the nature of reality.
To say that Nothing is True is to realize that the foundations of society are fragile, and that we must be the shephards of our own civilization.
To say that Everything is Permitted is to understand that we are the architects of our actions, and that we must live with the consequences, whether glorious...or tragic."
-Ezio Auditore da Firenze explaining the Creed, 1514, Masayaf.
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Re: Lr's Pathetic Attempts at Presenting Prose
by Oranjui » August 22nd, 2012, 7:05 pm
Lr's Pathetic Attempts at Presenting Prose
Lrmaster132 wrote:poem
k
6/10
+blood
+death
+blood
-annoying rhymes
-inconsistent thoughts/word choice between subject and post
Also what.
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Oranjui - Minister of Oerhaos
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