Young Writers Society

shiny black and gilded gold,
bleeding red and red and red

Hiii, very late to the party but here nonetheless.

10/30


Previous Yearly Threads:

1. the ones who dared

gilded gold and shiny black
make a stark contrast against
knuckles turned white
as he grips the throne;
he is foolish, to think that none
would dare defy his rule,
and yet, here stands one
--the only one--
who dared.

shiny black and gilded gold;
the gilt cage, unseen but still firmly there
against white knuckles and sharp teeth
and even sharper eyes.
he is too foolish to reconsider
the decisions he has made
and still, here is one
who dares defy.

gilded gold and shiny black,
a stark contrast against
white knuckles and sharp teeth,
and sharper eyes;
he is no longer foolish
and he has made decisions
that hurt and hinder and destory.
and ever still, there shall always be
the one who dared.

shiny black and gilded gold,
bleeding red and red and red
amongst pale skin and dark hearts
as sharp eyes watch on;
the emperor is dead and the city is free.
it shall go on, broken, battered,
--healing slowly the wounds he caused--
and dreaming of the ones
who dared to defy.

Thanks to @fortis for the prompt!

2. the first fire

the first fire I remember
happened when I was a child;
the sky had turned orange
and the smoke billowed high.

it passed but it was only
the first fire I remember.
the second came when I was
much older, in smoke and heat;

I smelt the smoke first, like a
hint of light in the darkness; not
the first fire I remember
but also not the last, either.

the third came sweetly, like
a slow burning flame, but not
of fire; it surely wasn't
the first fire I remember

3. her eyes were like a galaxy

her eyes were like a galaxy
hiding a million stars;
don't tell her about the darkness
that lurks in between
and whispers sweetly of
dangerous things.

her eyes were like a galaxy
hiding black holes
and nebulae; patterns and shadows
painting little secrets
across galaxies and the
pillars of creation.

4. fear and dead men.

all we are surround by is
fear and dead men
and dead men don't speak;
they say the path to hell
is pathed with good intentions.
i like to think the path to heaven
is pathed with tears and sorrow.
but don't let me tell you that
angels don't weep.

all we are surrounded by is
death and destruction
and destruction has hit its peak;
the path to purgatory
is pathed with broken promises.
i like to think it's all the ones
that i have broken.
but don't let me tell you that
you demons are real.

all we are surrounded by is
faith and broken bones
and broken bones always heal;
they say the path to earth
is pathed in free fall.
i like to think i pushed
all the angels off the peak.
but don't let me tell you
that god is dead.

look up at the stars
and find out for yourself;
god is dead
and the angels have fallen.
do you wish to turn back time?
don't. your demons used to be
angels in disguise, but now
they are devils
promising you lies.

5. and yet, the rumours persist

men are not meant
to rule the seas
or come back from the dead
and yet, the rumours
persist.
did you die
and come back
just to spite me?
or did you do it
just so
you can prove that
god does not exist?

men are not meant
to rules the stars
or crawl up out of their graves
and yet, the rumours
persist.
did you die
and come back
just to prove a point?
or did you do it
just so
you can say that you've
"been there, done that"?

men are not meant
to rule galaxies
or knock on spaceship doors
and yet, the rumours
persist.
did you die
and come back
just to speak to me?
or did you do it
just so
you could say "hello,
I was the first man to win"?

men are not meant
to play god
or survive in zero gravity
and yet, the rumours
persist.
did you die
and come back
just to spite people?
or did you do it
just so
you could prove
that god doesn't exist?

6. war drums

can you hear the war drums
and the pounding feet?
it's a rhythm
that's hard to forget;
it signals the start
of world war three.

can you hear the war drums
and the pounding feet?
it's a rhythm
that sinks in deep;
it signals an age
of screams and fear.

i can hear the war drums
and the pounding feet.
it's not a rhythm
that's easy to forget;
it has signalled
the start of world war three.

i can hear the war drums
and the pounding feet.
it's a rhythm
that seems to stick;
it had signalled an age
of screams and fear.

they say the path to hell
is pathed with good intentions.
i hope you are prepared
to shoulder all your sins.
i can see the fork in our path
and it leads to purgatory.

7. the devil and i

the devil and i
are in the middle
of a game;
the first to convert all souls
wins.

and here i am
just biding my time.
(sin is not like
virtue. it is more like
blood
and blood can be
washed away. you
just need to wash
it off enough times.)

the devil and i
are in the middle
of a game;
the first to stain all souls
wins.

8. seashells and seaweed

she sings so sweetly
of deep waters and
shallow breaths
but she is made of seashells
and seaweed stern with lies;
you shall not go slowly
to the depths.
drowning comes easy
when you forget how
to breathe.

9. tell summer that i died

the waves crash over my head,
cool against overheated skin
as she dragged me down;
tell summer that i died
and winter came to claim me
from her lair deep beneath
the ocean's last waves

the bubbles streamed ever upwards
as the pressure increased,
tight against chest and lungs;
tell summer that i died
and the ocean came to claim
my soul for her winter gardens
sprawling across the sea floor

the water rushed into my lungs
as the urge to inhale grew unbearable
crushing lungs and darkening vision;
tell summer that i died
and the mermaid queen came for me,
for my heart, and made me
into one of hers.

drowning never felt so good
so tell summer that i died
in good faith and left
for better pastures.

Thanks to @Nikayla for the prompt <3


10. a symbol of decay

the corpses of a long-forgotten legacy
lay dormant beneath
the buzzing of fruit flies
and the wriggling of maggots;
apples to apples, dates to dates
from lemon to lime and blackcurrant
to boysenberry. you are not my
long lost love, fruit flies and maggots,
but a symbol of the decay
that is eating away at my heart.

 
10. strange magic

you weave strange magic
into eyes and smiles and hearts,
and into the pillars of creation
in a far away corner of the galaxy;
you have entranced my soul
and enslaved me, and i worship
the way you whisper secrets
into my ears
and drip poison into my eyes. 
 
you are a magician of the universe 
with none to control or guide you,
to make sure you are righteous
to those lower than your precious gift;
you have entranced my soul
and enslaved me, and i worship
the way your secrets sound 
leaving my lips
and the poison feels seeping from my veins. 
 
you weave strange magic 
into hearts and minds and eyes
and yet you forget the pillars of creation
in that faraway corner of the galaxy;
you once entranced my soul
and enslaved me, but my worship
is gone and my heart 
is finally free
and your poison consumes me. 
 
you thought you could tame the universe
but the universe has tamed you;

the magician is now entranced 
and i shall drip poison into your eyes.
worship me, be enslaved
for you are now the guardian
of the underworld; be vicious,
magician, and seek souls unbound
and unfettered til the end
of all time
and, eventually, i will consume you.