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Southern_Belle

  • Sonnet 1 - On a Lost Love

    Tonight I lie awake, thinking of thee, But mostly wond'ring why I let thee go. Thy heart was nearly mine! I did not see The truth, because I loved another ...

    1 min read
  • Sonnet 2 - On a Hopeful Love

    O to gaze 'pon thy truly handsome face, To place my hands upon thy gorgeous frame, To desire of thy love and perfect grace: All are sins disgraceful e'en to ...

    1 min read
  • Sonnet 3 - On Love's Frustrations

    O why do I bother to think, my dear? Why must I attempt to capture thy love? Why is't that I should have nothing to fear? Thy heart is a ...

    1 min read
  • Smoking Guns

    It was fast approaching ten o’clock in the morning, and sunlight flickered down through the trees, bouncing off the metal of the pistols’ barrels. The heat was close to unbearable. ...

    22 min read
  • Angels in the City

    It was a normal Monday morning in late April. I was standing on the sidewalk outside my apartment building, waiting for a taxi as I always do on weekday mornings. ...

    23 min read
  • The Legend of the Euranian Stone

    Spring of the Eight Hundredth Year of the Cardinal "Now where is this kid?" "Shush! . . . In the Autumn Springs Kingdom." Second Commander McCray and Fourth Captain Price ...

    5 min read
  • The Legend of the Euranian Stone

    It had been two years since the kidnapping of Prince Daymore Gibson, and not once had the Dark Realm been suspected, except for a couple of worthless rumors in newspapers ...

    30 min read
  • The Legend of the Euranian Stone

    It was the day before Daymore and King Evan were to leave and search for the Euranian Stone. King Evan was in the castle basement, searching for a map, or ...

    18 min read
  • The Legend of the Euranian Stone

    "We're going to need to travel that on ship. The water is too deep. Our horses wouldn't be able to handle it." King Evan's party was mounted on horses, looking ...

    18 min read


To be a master of metaphor is the greatest thing by far. It is the one thing that cannot be learnt from others, and it is also a sign of genius.
— Aristotle, Poetics