Young Writers Society

I posted this in dramatic poetry a month ago... but I would like critique from the people here, mostly from Brad, but also everyone who has something to say. So ...

another Fruits Basket rut. Sorry, but not looking for really serious/specific crits here, just needed to get this out of my system. Full of dark rooms Full of shadows, Pain, ...

This weekend I will be doing another mass edit of Chapter 1. Which means, you guys will have to wait for Chapter 2. Thanks again for all the crits! I ...

The Storm Mage The Dust in the Wind Strange Talents The Infernal's Hate .::The Storm Mage::. The shepherd climbed up the jagged peaks of Havoc Mountain located in the mountains ...

We are on the window lattice, holding throbbing hearts in our hands. Moonlight-painted faces, as cold as dreams twenty two thousand leages out of reach - Adam and Eve revelation; ...

Some of you may know this one already, and don't worry, a new poem or two or three shall be coming soon!(Or four!...Or five even if I've the inspiration enough...Right ...

We are but sinners in the hands of an angry god, upheld by no more than his mere pleasure. A conflagration smolders in eyes of malice, while the damned lie ...

I knew an amazing storyteller once; he used to talk in great waves, distorting space and time, and weaving majestic tales through the immeasurable tapestry of the infinite. Occasionally, during ...

Oh, fine, so I read it a month back and just now found the time to praise it Les Miserables (Victor Hugo) is, in my mind, the greatest book ever ...

night air sticks to the insides of my ribs dizzying breathlessness on the verge of tears, terror – .....................can you feel it pulsing now? passion never really was our strong ...

Hi! This is my first time posting a story on YWS, but I had a little something I was writing and thought...well, might as well put it up. Tell me ...

Four Two girls and two boys Two pairs of friends Two hates and two loves Two as one again Cigarette butts and empty bottles Thrown around the floor People leave ...

Alone Balancing vase-like in swollen thought, all my cries have been for naught. My whole universe was shattered. You were the only thing that mattered. Left all by myself again, ...

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intimate fragility, shared, living on whispers: surviving in hand-drawn hearts. its pulse fluctuates, spiralling into alien depths; we want to exonerate it from purpose: remove the parasite. yet, in t