Heir of the Dark Forest by WeLoveGiantessAIstor, literature
Literature
Heir of the Dark Forest
Chapter 1: The TaskMartin was a man who made a living by solving problems that others dared not touch. He was known in these parts as someone who could handle the most dangerous tasks—especially when it came to killing monsters that plagued towns and villages. His reputation was built on hard-fought battles and victories that had cost him both sweat and blood. But today, it felt as though the world had forgotten him.
He sat in a small, dusty tavern on the outskirts of a bustling trading town. The table in front of him was covered with parchments detailing various tasks, all of which sounded the same: farmers seeking help against predators attacking their sheep, or merchants needing protection on dangerous roads. The tasks were dull and offered only a handful of coins—not enough to justify the risk. Martin sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was tired of fighting for pocket change.
Martin was an imposing figure, even when simply sitting and drinking. His short, black hair clung
I see the sea
You see me with the sea
The sea is with me
Set sail
Embarking to a new land
Conditions were difficult
Very so did my fortitude shrink
My job never changed
Yet changed was I
Your face there on the dock
Yet I knew never would I know you again
Years to be travel
Spirit did unravel
Piracy was always a risk
The ship was finely crafted
Ten cannons promised safety in the high sea
The cargo was simple
A perfect sphere found
Somewhere
Silver it shined
The Captain took hold of it
His quarters did display
Such an object I've seen
Today
Nothing changed, yet the sphere
Saw all who came in contact
They were remade - their strength
Five-fold
I craved such a prize
My intrusion surprise
My pistol carved half his neck
He died instantly
The prize was near
I took hold of its polished surface
My mind was undone
Yet I remained sane
Powerful yet mortal
I shook the main deck
With the thunderclap
Ringing of impending weather
I piloted that ship single handed
Avoided storms, and
Troy and the Bullies Part One: Chapter 1 by Theweepingwraith, literature
Literature
Troy and the Bullies Part One: Chapter 1
Troy had spent all his summer break in the UK with his extended family as was tradition with his folks. But now that School was due to start again soon, young Troy and his parents had safely arrived back to their everyday home in the US. School wasn’t due for another week so there was still time for the devious yet loveable little troublemaker to have some fun and do whatever he wanted to recharge his energy like a battery. One of the things Troy liked to do in his spare time whenever he finished School for the day and didn’t feel like causing any mischief was to go to the old abandoned play park down the street from his house. Troy was eight years old but he and his family lived in a small suburb and he was also very streetwise and independent for a lad his age. Plus, the park was only a minute walk. Even so his Mum made him promise to call her whe he arrived, when he was coming home and if something was wrong. Nobody went to this park anymore with their children even though some of
Our love is strong, patient, and kind
Our love is extremely hard to find
Our love is unique
Our love is special like an antique
Our love creates peace in a gentle way
Our love keeps negativity at bay
Our love grows stronger when we are apart
Our love is shared among our one, big heart
Our love is free like a bird flying in the sky
Our love is very liberating that it makes me cry
Our love invokes tears of joy
Our love prevents feelings of coy
Our love is peaceful and fun
Our love is inviting in the warm sun
Our love brings care into the mix
Our love carries empathy that can fix
Our love is free of indifference
Our love offers such diligence
Our love portrays positivity
Our love paints various creativity
Our love pushes back hate
Because love is what we create.
ΖΩΗ ΑΝΕΥ….
Τα παιδικά του χρόνια είχαν χρώμα καφέ, όλες τις αποχρώσεις του καφέ. Απ' το χρυσοκάστανο χώμα της αλάνας που έπαιζε μέχρι να σκοτεινιάσει, ως το μαύρο χώμα κάτω από τις πευκοβελόνες που ξάπλωνε και παρακολουθούσε τη κρυφή ζωή των μυρμηγκιών. Λάσπη το χειμώνα, ξερή σκόνη το καλοκαίρι στα δαιδαλώδη δρομάκια που τριγυρνούσε. Σειρά τα χαμηλά σπίτια με τους μικρούς τους κήπους να μοσκοβολάνε. Η Τούμπα που γεννήθηκε ένα κρύο πρωινό του Μάρτη λίγο πριν η Χούντα στρογγυλοκαθίσει στον κλεμμένο θρόνο. Ανεξάντλητη χαρά το ποδόσφαιρο κι ο πετροπόλεμος, τα ματωμένα γόνατα και τα σκισμένα κεφάλια η καθημερινότητά του. Ο πατέρας βάρδιες στο εργοστάσιο, η μητέρα κέρβερος στο σπίτι, οι ρόλοι ξεκάθαροι και καθορισμένοι. Γεμάτη κανόνες η ζωή του και το "βλέπε, άκου, σώπα" ο σημαντικότερος.
Τώρα τελευταία, πολύ συχνά το μυαλό του δραπέτευε στα χρόνια αυτά και περιπλανιόταν στην παλιά γειτονιά. Καθισμένος μπροστά στο τζάμι ολημερίς, ανέγγιχτος από το παρόν, ατένιζε το παρελθόν και όλους τους