Thriving Fire

Thunderous crashes, cries of desperation, and a single, terrifying bellow. Chaos. Destruction. Fear. Thy name was Skuller The troll was no longer in control of his own body. His thick, ...

Uh....what? This post may be deleted, but what the hell are you talking about? Elaborate a bit, and I might answer the question. I've read the book in question (although ...

Poetry is, in my opinion, a stream of words that explore the poet's feelings or any number of other things that could be on his/her mind. With that said, an ...

In the words of some thickly accented English cockney: 'Allo 'allo! Sorry........ Anyway hi [insert favourite/preferred nickname here]. I'm Thriving Fire (well, not really...) and, like any number of

I'm gonna make one big, bold, statement about this: you need more depth . With poetry, we're generally told to read a poem twice before commenting, but the thing is, ...

The silence that prevailed in the Land of the Elves was not unusual or spontaneus, but perpetual. It was there, and would always be there. Elves prided themselves on being ...

Skuller woke up not a second later than he intended to. Night was upon him, and somewhere above, the stars twinkled like little diamonds. How they warmed his heart. So ...

Granted, but now you have inspiration all the time and you have it so much that you don't know the difference, therefore defeating the purpose of inspiration and killing your ...

Name: Skuller Class: Troll Country: Unknown (nobody has got close enough to ask him!). Age: 103, according to legend. Looks: Massive in size with humanlike, but deformed features. AND HE'S ...

#EDITED# Thanks guys, I've tried to fix some of the problems (and the fact that there are many is sinking in pretty quickly...), some of which were easy, others not ...

Hmmm....#strokes chin, wondering# For a self proclaimed 'first poem ever' this is quite good, but I have to agree with Casey: the idea of telling everything straight out gets old ...

Not sure if this should be lyric poetry or dramatic (or narrative for that matter) but this is my best guess so here goes. Gold So the sky, it was ...

OK, since I'm a firm believer in getting the bad out of the way first, here goes. The main problem with this is flow: it was all kinds of wrong. ...

Granted, but then it's replaced with the smell of dog crap, sorry, poo. I wish I could think up a good wish

A little hint? Oh alright, we'll go with that for the minute...