Tremble at the castle of old
Its structures still standing
Hidden beneath the caverns of darkness
Once a palace of light
Of refuge
Forgotten by time
Grind away by the elements
It will dissipate
Its past unresolved
Its time nigh
Featured image drawn by ChrisCold
Strange people pass
The village unyielding
Staring at their visage
What filth unappealing
Gawk at their misfortune
They continue to do
Until all of them moved
What ever shall we do?
For as the strangers were gone
Their own misfortune they were reminded
Back at their own existence
Their lives were unwinded
We rarely gawk at the strangers no more
Their appearance no longer interesting
Their complexion grown too sore
How do they live with such marks?
The villagers wondered
Such unending filth attached to their skin
At the streets yonder
Yet once the strangers were gone the villagers did not cheer
Hoping the strangers to return
Their own misfortune
They did not jeer
Most of you probably don’t know this, but I have a blog on Niume where I experiment with different kinds of blog post that I don’t want on this site. Book of Legacy should be all about stories and poetry, so that’s how its going to stay.
That said, I posted a new blog post recently which is a fictional post of my thoughts about the future. I would be much obliged if you checked it out and told me what you thought of it.
Thanks!
Progress or Regress: Humanity at a Crossroad
Fantasy and imagination
I want to stay
But friends wants to grow up
And I can’t find a way
Their youth inappropriate
Yet they grow up all the same
Fantasy I want to remain
Why won’t you do the same?
Use the photograph above as the inspiration for your flash fiction story. Write whatever comes to mind (no sexual, political, or religious stories, jokes, or commentary, please) and after you PROOFREAD it, submit it as your entry in the comments section below. There will be no written prompt. Welcome to the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction […]
via Flash Fiction Writing Prompt: Mirage — Indies Unlimited
I have a great fondness for very short fiction, I’ve found. It’s especially entertaining when there is a limit. 250 words you can do on this one.
Here is my contribution:
So this is the end. Once a thriving grassland now turned to savanna. Nobody imagined the transformation would’ve occurred this quickly, just a few weeks after the traveller’s curse… Damn foreigners.
They have no respect for the words of the mystic, and now look what their carelessness have wrought on us! My dad tells me we can weather this misfortune; that there are plenty of examples in the holy texts about the sand unleashing its wrath, only to spare the faithful in the end.
We are a pious family, after all, he tells us. Only, as I stand to gaze over the now dead landscape, I cannot help but feel despair upon my view. The sand creeping menacingly closer, suffocating the grass beneath my feet.
I fear this will be the last time I’ll see of my homeland, habitable and lush.
Darkness enveloped us
Particles stirred by our presence,
Parching our throats
We wanted to turn back
But it was too late
For the second we descended into this nightmare
There was no place to look but forward
No regrets
Only the future
A people with no roots
No land to claim as their own
Vanquished from their place of origin
They journeyed through the generations
Alway on the move
Only through wits have they retained their identity,
Their culture,
And their spirit
*
Through hardships they had become undone
No longer tied to the rational
Hence they can unleash their wrath upon everything
For life is no longer holy in the eyes of the desperate
And through the ashes they will rise as the victor
Remembered by noone
Is it possible to write humorously?
To laugh by the format of the sad,
The dramatic,
And the misinterpreted?
Humour me damn it!
Give me something that shows me you care
Give me something so that i may pamper you with my love
Gives me reason to go on
You heartless beast…
The Horrors of Writing 