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Reflected InnardsStuck, trapped, and imprisoned he was in a rut of no inspiration, no muse to fuel his creativity, nor even a song to sing his way to the light. Nothing but the hapless woe of a lost shard in his heart, leaving his innards in shades of murky blue, black, and purple, as though his emotions were bruised and he could only express it that way.
He pressed himself to his window, which was cloudy from city smog and dust. His palms and fingers tingled at the stark coldness of the glass; though his chest was also pushed to it, he leaned his head back. He was close enough to breathe fog on the window, or to even kiss it and leave a conspicuously embarrassing mark for the neighbors to see.
He was surrounded by the walls of his studio, small and cramped, with nearly every inch of the room victim to being covered, taped, and tacked with doodles, detailed renderings, photos, newspaper clippings, and even pictures he had printed from the internet for inspiration. But that wasnt enough, He felt l
Left WonderingNot a whisper, breath, or press
Was delivered to me for a clue
Orbits of the consciousness
Flew in darts of no filled controls
Slept was the singleness in my bed
As the crusted blood accompanied me
Dropped and shocked in the drift
As I could've kissed the palm of solace
Felt and watched the doves fly away
Ribbons of red in their beaks
Left a treasure chest a lonely heart
Scraped token of flinches for one memory
Angelic Beguiling AtrocityGargoyles
Leering in the place I must call home...
Draping the vast corridors of arcane darkness to be solved...
Ripping the painting
Fighting the wolves
Confronting the beast
Drift through the melancholy halls
Dimly lit by flickering torches
With one so awry silence
Ashamed of grotesque visage
As one red rose blooms
Shimmering with stars of malediction
Riverside at crimson October
Waving the clouds
Sink into the bed of welcoming spring grass
As I let the breeze, the wind
Take away my dreams as they dance and twirl along the soft, unseen path
My longings as petals
Cry at the moon as passion was stolen away
Through the gates of ever-black forever
Snow kept locked within, unwelcoming intruder
Never penetrate and extinguish the light
Flung onto blankets for tears collected
Would one fall from the Heavens as snow whips beyond gilded windows?
Once upon a time, try to mend the canvas with your enticing blue eyes
Enchanted by the scintillating rose
Blossomed by hope as a fin
In This Evanescent Dream... Once, the touch that gifted the blush, soft and timid, but yearning and sealed in a hazy cloud upon swirling chairs. A fluttering smile, dark eyes alight with return, came forth with two petals, moist and sweet, three times, each the tick of the clock. A dream savored, eyes closed, felt the replica of authentic flesh, blood and skin mingling with that savored delicacy. It was only the shroud of dreams lifted, the garish sun blasting the time of awakening, when all the magic slippers were crushed and scattered into shards, glass treading upon silvery, cool, gushing water that felt like a heart's cold, dripping blood.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More