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Literature
Highway 39
I sit here in the middle
Of Highway 39,
And the lights are far.
I gaze around the road,
Dark and lit only by imagined
Streetlamps of lives gone wrong,
And the lights seem farther now.
I stare at those lines
On Highway 39,
Separating dark from dark,
Loneliness creeping,
Seeping from the blackened fault,
And the lights seem dimmer.
I stand here on this asphalt prison,
That is Highway 39,
Cracks running through
The painted bright bars,
Underneath my imprisoned pride,
And the lights get brighter again.
I crouch here on Highway 39,
Pained at the sight
Of the fallen tears from above,
Letting the sky see clear,
Letting the light seem near.
I’m young on the road,
Named Highway 39,
He scratches his beard as we walk
Lost, together, approaching the time,
When the light beats down on us.
Forty save one
On Highway 39,
The pain gets too much,
I sleep down the hurt,
Hurrying to get away;
I lost my way
On Highway 39,
Save yourself I told him,
It’s it for me
As I leave, forcing him to belie
:iconFuryDahDaggon:FuryDahDaggon
:iconfurydahdaggon:FuryDahDaggon 1 0
Literature
The Devil Makes Do
I scream,
Begging for freedom ‘till they deem,
What is right,
When all good intention is gone?
What is right,
What can be believed,
When you’re lied to and,
Cheated?
Controlled by grief,
Plagued by pain,
‘Till the Devil makes do,
With cutting veins;
What door was closed,
What path am I on?
What am I lead to believe,
Am I told or was it a con?
Deceiving me, trapping me,
Holding me down like a paperweight, 
My Love was never Hate!
Am I the bigger fish?
Or just a worm used for bait?
Broken doors like open gates,
Release the sheep,
Relive the lies that you keep;
I’ve turned,
A monster of Death,
Of the Devil,
Killing, slaying, making them known;
Can I not fit in?
I tried to love and then,
They didn’t believe,
Because of past lies,
Because of the monster I already was-
I can’t stop.
Death and I swap,
Lies and tricks we were told were true,
And then betrayed each other out of the blood red;
I don’t know what was
:iconFuryDahDaggon:FuryDahDaggon
:iconfurydahdaggon:FuryDahDaggon 3 0
Literature
What Human Sin Attains
Sometimes, nights like these
Change the way I write,
Gaining experience never noticed;
Sitting beside a fire,
Burning, it warms my body,
As the flames get closest;
Open, my heart is heated,
Broken and shattered like glass,
Yet a mirror never beated;
Staring up at radiant stars,
Twinkling and seeming so small,
Like eyes of sad humans
Behind bars;
Crescent, a moon so thin,
Starving in the blackness
Raw and deep.
A blade well forged,
But used for unwell
Humans it gorged;
The dark around like prison,
Keeping ones in stillness,
Slay those which move.
And as I stare, I fell
Asleep to tears;
Dream, of cotton moving
Over the moon,
Counting, each with bated breath;
Lead each sheep to it’s doom,
A cell of no escape,
Cages of sinful repetition,
Each man blindly to his death...
:iconFuryDahDaggon:FuryDahDaggon
:iconfurydahdaggon:FuryDahDaggon 0 0
Literature
A Magician's Hurt
To be free of hate,
Untangle the chains,
Cure the spasms of-
Pain;
Only know love,
Gently cup your hands,
Shelter them with yourself,
Release them as a magician does-
With a dove;
Get away from the gloom,
Surf the waves,
That just love to-
Loom;
Love yourself,
Give in to the peace,
Be honest to your own,
Free of the-
Leash;
Do not lie,
For one day the ones,
You lied to shall bury your-
Bones,
When you die;
The ones lied to,
Burying you alive,
Destroying your will to strive,
Destroying the chance,
For a better you;
Gently cup your hands,
Shelter your face inside,
Release your hurt like a magician,
With a-
Dove,
Wings of white purity,
Give and gave,
More ‘til you drop;
Because finding a cure isn’t easy,
Pain relievers only work for-
So long;
Willing to live,
But it hurts to-
Realize,
You need to hold-
Out,
Your happiness in a drought,
Release it as a magician would,
White wings guide,
It was never just a dove…
Could it have been an-
Angel,
The whole time?
Or could it be
:iconFuryDahDaggon:FuryDahDaggon
:iconfurydahdaggon:FuryDahDaggon 0 0
Literature
Before
Back to the old days,
When no one died from smoke,
When the Earth was clean from pollution,
And the grass grew freely,
When swords clashed,
And arrows rained down,
When the gentle breeze blew,
And all knew of His presence,
When there were no elections,
But there was still good and evil,
And He was the only true leader.
Back to the present day,
As not all die from smoke,
As the Earth gets polluted by more than sin,
And the grass struggles to grow,
As fists fight,
And guns fire,
As the gentle breeze blows,
And all felt His presence,
As elections went on,
But good seems out-numbered,
He was still the only true leader.
Back to the ticking time,
When most were saved from smoke,
When the Earth gets cleansed,
And grass can freely grow again,
When weapons are put down,
And arrows are used for firewood,
When the gentle breeze over-powers the tornado,
And all know His name,
When He is king once more,
And there is only good,
And God is known, respected, and obeyed once again.
:iconFuryDahDaggon:FuryDahDaggon
:iconfurydahdaggon:FuryDahDaggon 2 4
Literature
Peace to the Memories
Looking back,
Desperately Crying,
Grasping at memories lost;
Trying to track,
The times that I loved,
But each inkling costs,
A piece of my heart,
An unfair piece of my soul;
Why can’t it go away,
Why must it hurt?
I thought it’d be a good day,
I never deserved this role;
Though please let me give,
Peace to the spirits,
That will pass this night,
Peace to the warm bodies,
Which fly those summer kites;
Peace to the many,
That think they are nobody,
Wanting to rid themselves of this,
Life without bliss,
Peace to all,
Who hear that special call...
:iconFuryDahDaggon:FuryDahDaggon
:iconfurydahdaggon:FuryDahDaggon 1 0
Literature
Empty Page
An empty page,
Is another story to be written,
Another world to be discovered,
More history to be recorded,
And another letter to be sent;
An empty page,
Is a safe campfire in a bitter cold,
A lover's arms ready to embrace you,
More good to be published,
And another's secret getaway;
An empty page,
Is another song to be sung,
Another legend to be told,
More planes to be folded,
And the greatest drawing to an artist;
An empty page,
Is so much more than,
An empty page.
:iconFuryDahDaggon:FuryDahDaggon
:iconfurydahdaggon:FuryDahDaggon 2 5
Literature
From Sin to Prayer
Pray,
Pray for the sick,
The injured and dying;
Heal,
Heal the world,
The men and the women;
Don’t prey on the weak,
The helpless and hopeless,
Don’t give in to the sin,
The evil that took your kin;
Don’t stray,
Or get distracted by greed or fear,
Don’t let the path disperse,
Into evil woods of no return;
Heed the light,
That voice which calls,
Through the tangled brush,
Over the mountains and hills,
Across the streaming rivers;
Leave the darkness,
That temptation that beckons,
Tripping you, making you fall;
Don’t set your gaze on the murky water,
Liquid that shows you a lustful lie,
As you do nothing but stumble,
Through mud and thorny knots tied;
Pray,
Pray for a better life,
One not full of strife,
No crime,
Deathly illness or mental disabilities,
Blindness to sight,
Deaf men to listening saints,
Darkness, to light.
:iconFuryDahDaggon:FuryDahDaggon
:iconfurydahdaggon:FuryDahDaggon 4 0

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Activity


I sit here in the middle
Of Highway 39,
And the lights are far.
I gaze around the road,
Dark and lit only by imagined
Streetlamps of lives gone wrong,
And the lights seem farther now.
I stare at those lines
On Highway 39,
Separating dark from dark,
Loneliness creeping,
Seeping from the blackened fault,
And the lights seem dimmer.
I stand here on this asphalt prison,
That is Highway 39,
Cracks running through
The painted bright bars,
Underneath my imprisoned pride,
And the lights get brighter again.
I crouch here on Highway 39,
Pained at the sight
Of the fallen tears from above,
Letting the sky see clear,
Letting the light seem near.
I’m young on the road,
Named Highway 39,
He scratches his beard as we walk
Lost, together, approaching the time,
When the light beats down on us.
Forty save one
On Highway 39,
The pain gets too much,
I sleep down the hurt,
Hurrying to get away;
I lost my way
On Highway 39,
Save yourself I told him,
It’s it for me
As I leave, forcing him to believe,
That I’ll be okay.
I lay here on Highway 39,
My hand crumbling to dust,
The rest as well as I rest,
Open my eyes I see again,
The light in my face now.
I lay here on Highway 39,
My face bright as I hear
The play and joy of children midday,
And the light engulfs me once again.

Highway 39
I randomly got the inspiration for this one night, and decided to write. I wasn't able to finish until the next day, and that's what I did. I'm going to expand on it and possibly make it into a poetry-story type thing. If I do go through on making it a story (like I plan to), I'm planning on getting it published if it's good enough and etc. So... :D

Also, I wouldn't mind some pointers on how to go about it! Hope you enjoy, comments and advice are appreciated!
:meowheadbang: :meowheadbang: 
Loading...
I scream,
Begging for freedom ‘till they deem,
What is right,
When all good intention is gone?
What is right,
What can be believed,
When you’re lied to and,
Cheated?
Controlled by grief,
Plagued by pain,
‘Till the Devil makes do,
With cutting veins;
What door was closed,
What path am I on?
What am I lead to believe,
Am I told or was it a con?
Deceiving me, trapping me,
Holding me down like a paperweight, 
My Love was never Hate!
Am I the bigger fish?
Or just a worm used for bait?
Broken doors like open gates,
Release the sheep,
Relive the lies that you keep;
I’ve turned,
A monster of Death,
Of the Devil,
Killing, slaying, making them known;
Can I not fit in?
I tried to love and then,
They didn’t believe,
Because of past lies,
Because of the monster I already was-
I can’t stop.
Death and I swap,
Lies and tricks we were told were true,
And then betrayed each other out of the blood red;
I don’t know what was the first clue,
But today, the Devil makes do.
Sometimes, nights like these
Change the way I write,
Gaining experience never noticed;
Sitting beside a fire,
Burning, it warms my body,
As the flames get closest;
Open, my heart is heated,
Broken and shattered like glass,
Yet a mirror never beated;
Staring up at radiant stars,
Twinkling and seeming so small,
Like eyes of sad humans
Behind bars;
Crescent, a moon so thin,
Starving in the blackness
Raw and deep.
A blade well forged,
But used for unwell
Humans it gorged;
The dark around like prison,
Keeping ones in stillness,
Slay those which move.
And as I stare, I fell
Asleep to tears;
Dream, of cotton moving
Over the moon,
Counting, each with bated breath;
Lead each sheep to it’s doom,
A cell of no escape,
Cages of sinful repetition,
Each man blindly to his death...
What Human Sin Attains
Despite the night, a dark poem flowed from the tips of my fingers...
Loading...
To be free of hate,
Untangle the chains,
Cure the spasms of-
Pain;

Only know love,
Gently cup your hands,
Shelter them with yourself,
Release them as a magician does-
With a dove;

Get away from the gloom,
Surf the waves,
That just love to-
Loom;

Love yourself,
Give in to the peace,
Be honest to your own,
Free of the-
Leash;

Do not lie,
For one day the ones,
You lied to shall bury your-
Bones,
When you die;

The ones lied to,
Burying you alive,
Destroying your will to strive,
Destroying the chance,
For a better you;

Gently cup your hands,
Shelter your face inside,
Release your hurt like a magician,
With a-
Dove,
Wings of white purity,
Give and gave,
More ‘til you drop;

Because finding a cure isn’t easy,
Pain relievers only work for-
So long;
Willing to live,
But it hurts to-
Realize,
You need to hold-
Out,
Your happiness in a drought,
Release it as a magician would,
White wings guide,
It was never just a dove…

Could it have been an-
Angel,
The whole time?
Or could it be…

Your true-
Self?

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FuryDahDaggon
Furorem
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Hey there! I'm Furorem Draco-Solis! (Latin for Fury Dragon-Sun) I play video games and I write. A lot. I write poetry and I have multiple unfinished books that I am still working on. I write fantasy books, whether modern or medieval, I just overall enjoy it. My poetry ranges from emotional and dark, to religious, light and hopeful! Hopefully you like my writing, and maybe even learn some wisdom from it? Read it how you want, take it how you want, it's different to all.
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:iconaneurysmguy:
AneurysmGuy Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the fave! :wave:
Reply
:iconfurydahdaggon:
FuryDahDaggon Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
No problem~
:)
Reply
:iconbear48:
bear48 Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2017  Professional


www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHNczN…



:squee: :squee: :headbang: :squee: :squee:



Thank you for the fine Camelidae



:llama: :llama: :llama: :llama: :llama:


Reply
:iconfurydahdaggon:
FuryDahDaggon Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome! :D
Reply