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Literature by Luna-Venestus

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Submitted on
October 24, 2010
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She was conceived on the edge of a mirror,
lined with pretty white lace,
that burned the inside of her parents' nostrils.

She was born with a hole in her heart,
that the doctor's never noticed,
and no one bothered to fill.

She met Death on the playground,
when kindergarten was bending her bones.
Enticed by the glinting of his scythe,
as it preyed on a malformed baby rabbit.
She made a pinky promise with him,
swearing that she'd never forget his face.

He came and went,
swayed by corpse breaths
and east-coast winds,
but always leaving her alone.

He showed her how to hurt,
in the worst kind of way.
And each time,
he paid her a visit,
he'd take someone back with him.

She often asked where he would go,
when his curled claws would drag her mother,
her father,
her sister,
and every love she'd ever fallen for,
into the darkness that he crawled from.

All he'd say,
was that she'd find them again someday,
and that he would take her to them, personally.

But as February,
of her fourteenth year,
threatened to consume her whole,
burying her in the snowdrifts and icy winds
of its cavernous belly,
she saw him for the last time.

Without a second glance at her,
he swept her ink colored rabbit
into the crook of his scythe,
and turned his back on her.

For six years,
she waited,
for the promise he'd made.
To see all the ones she'd lost
to his bony grasp.

She had no friends,
no lovers,
no kin,
no pets,
only waiting,
for the day that he'd take her home.

As she withered into her twenties,
back breaking,
and hair graying,
not from age,
but from the weight of the world,
she began to lose hope.

He was all she'd ever known,
and now,
even he had left her alone.

She wept for him to take her,
as she slept in alleyways,
stained with his fingerprints.

She begged for him to find her,
as she fell on the steps of a church,
whose doors she couldn't approach.

She whimpered for him to save her,
as she stumbled,
heart cold,
and stomach hot,
to the edge of her iron-wrought balcony.

As the ice,
and the concrete,
gathered her into their embrace,
he came for her.

A twisted smile,
on torn and rotted lips,
and his scythe lined with frost,
and her blood.
He gathered her into his arms,
whispering that all was well,
as his cloak pulled darkness down to close her eyes.
Hmm...dunno if this makes sense.
Jus' a quick something. :shrug:
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Daily Deviation

Given 2014-02-19
this piece was written with depth and feeling you could feel what the character felt and it was clear what was happening the disruption is magnificent!!!
this deviation definitely deserves the DD it has received

you understood the girls pain this shows the cruelty of reality and a promise.
definitely a work of art.

this is definitely a sad piece of writing and im Shure that's what the author was trying to portray .there are times when this actualy happens the figurative language gives it that professional touvh"

I can only say well done well written and I would be extremely surprised if this auther dosent aventualy get published
What do you think?
The Artist thought this was FAIR
6 out of 6 deviants thought this was fair.

I am a huge fan of free verse, and I absolutely love it when someone writes something that I can relate to. Similar to Edgar Allan Poe, your descriptions are flawless. The whole piece has a certain flow to it, it's almost entirely......I believe the word I'm looking for is serene. You seem to have captured serenity in a darkness which is most often perceived as chaotic. Even when the reader is presented with something generally seen as morbid, like the malformed baby rabbit, it still holds that serenity, and captivates the reader even more. I would really like to see this particular storyline last even longer. In truth, I wasn't ready for it to end!
What do you think?
The Artist thought this was FAIR
4 out of 4 deviants thought this was fair.

The Artist has requested Critique on this Artwork

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artbyfieldsofsage Featured By Owner May 25, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
It's an unfinished story.  Please write more.  I'll wait.
SoImStillUnsure Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Unfinished? She's dead. I don't see how much more finished it can become.
artbyfieldsofsage Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
That poem is so beautiful.  But here's what I felt:  Before the age of 14 her mother and every one she loved had died ... and then in her 20s she died.  Did she jump from the balcony?  I need to read this again & again.  Not because I don't understand it ... but because it calls to me.  He/Death promised her that she would see her loved ones again.  I guess that's the part where I feel like the story/poem should continue.  Or maybe not.  Maybe since we know nothing of death, maybe we should not surmise.  But what is quite evident ... You are a very gifted writer.
SoImStillUnsure Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Hmm, I suppose I thought that Death was not quite the friend she suspected him to be - he said he was taking her to see them again, but really, he had no plan to. He was simply taking her to her grave. I, personally, don't believe in the afterlife, so I suppose that transferred into my writing. 
artbyfieldsofsage Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Well then we have something in common.  I don't believe in an afterlife either.  But it interesting to hear what other people "believe."  And it offers so much information/ideas to feed our creativity.  I should upload my poem about my grandmother.  It's all about the night death came to take her.
SoImStillUnsure Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I'm sure it is quite lovely :aww: or as lovely as something concerning death can be
OnyxiusART Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Oh gosh I love this.
If you could explain the rabbit's meaning to me that would be great!
But wow, seriously, this is beyond beautiful.
SoImStillUnsure Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you - I'm glad you liked it. 

And I just wanted to show the many ways Death was involved in her life. So one of the earliest times was when she found a newborn baby rabbit on the playground, it was disfigured and had been abandoned, so she stayed with it until Death came and took it away.
Skye-42 Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2014  Student General Artist
Very nice to see such disturbingly beautiful poetry get a DD. Even if it was a 'quick something', it is a wonderful piece.
Congratulations on the DD. ^^ :clap:
SoImStillUnsure Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
:aww: Thank you! It's sure nice to see that some people still have a morbid appreciation for the dark and disturbing. I'm glad you liked it!
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