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Deviant for 14 Years
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Dreaming Limbo 1: Re-write
I awoke from my sleep, but my eyes would not open.  Was it all just a dream, it seemed like eternity?  You see I don't know, and I cannot seem to find myself.  I have forgotten who I am.  Now locked in a room 6 paces by 12.  A cot, a table, pen and paper.  My only waking companions.  I cannot trust even them, though they are whom I now tell this memory to.  You see I do not know if I am still sleeping or not, if these words scratched on paper will ever be read.  Yet I must tell it, even if only to myself.
I went to sleep in the all pervasive waking dark.  When I opened my eyes, I stood atop a mountain.  The air was clear and cold.  I could see, I could see for miles.  Soaking in the sweeping view of forested plains.  With a river slicing through them like the slashing stroke of a paintbrush.  In the refreshing air, I felt so tired. &
:iconwyreth:wyreth 1 1
Nano: Strange sort of sunset
the jets contrails faded black
looking like feathers of a raven
picking at the corpse of the day.
:iconwyreth:wyreth 1 4
Is this what it ish to be a teenager again.
all the dammage,
from the damaging things I have done.
I'd ask the pope,
but he'd say:
I am not a proper catholic.
:iconwyreth:wyreth 0 0
Strange sort of spectical
and she kapered about so foolishly
she was a young petty and pretty dame
dancing a petty and pretty dance to call
we kapered about led so well.
so alive breathing in all that was,
but in this rage I cannot remember her.
:iconwyreth:wyreth 0 6
Lets play a game by wyreth Lets play a game :iconwyreth:wyreth 0 0
Ivy is the slow fated hand
Subtle fingers to work this latch
Opening the window, not for time
Green growth, equals and ends all.
.                                                           An age opened this window
.                                                           One you locked so long ago
:iconwyreth:wyreth 1 6
A Moment
we took our damage
wrote a form of verbal frottage
caressing an imagined image
but our moment was fey
it was never a day away
:iconwyreth:wyreth 0 0
A Strange Sort of Art-Revision
Tired travelers have more tales to tell.
Ask too much and they will leave.
They are the closets and alleyways hiding soured paints.
I would brush my portrait in their sepia tones.
Distilled by the sun, colors that have no more lies.
So stretch a moth eaten sail over this frame.
Breathe a song into my ear while I work.
Something soft so only I can hear.
Whispered words have a pregnant message.
Laboring away, giving birth to a meaning.
So this painting, this art, will have something to say.
:iconwyreth:wyreth 1 6
The boy without a cape :RD:
With that, he solemnly tied the towel around his neck, and started climbing up the ladder.  They thought he was just another silly little boy, did they?  Well he would show them.  Did he not just beat Tommy in the race around the block?  Tommy was the fastest, and he was faster.  Did he not pick up the cinderblock on tuesday?  No one else could pick it up, not even Dad.  Dad was the strongest person ever.  He even got 100% on his math quiz.  That smartty Lizzie only got 99%.  She even had glasses, and Mom said those made you smarter than normal people.
When you were the fastest, the strongest, and the smartest.  You had to put on a cape.  It was your duty, because you were The One.  Lizzy was a meanie too, did that make her his nemesis?  He decided that needed some thought, as he clamored onto the roof from the ladder.  He waved to Steven
:iconwyreth:wyreth 1 7
Quiet storm
waiting on a gentle whispered spell
breath of her words made rain
a soft and gentle caress
:iconwyreth:wyreth 1 0
No Space
No space
Abrupt arbitrary answers
It was sung with a comforting smile
No space
Stiff sterile silence
A comforting and warm amusement shared
No space
Empty erudite edifices
The down blanket shelters from cold night air.
No space
Facades falter finally
Softly spoken goodnight.
the question left no doubt
no space for an answer.
:iconwyreth:wyreth 0 0
Perspective by wyreth Perspective :iconwyreth:wyreth 0 4
Ships in the night Ch1
"Maggie you know how much I hate New York."
"Hourice, why do you make this such a battle?  Sometimes I wonder if you are even interested in selling your books."  It was my bi-annual debate with Margerie Graph, my publicist.  I love to write, and if that was all there were to my job I think I could almost enjoy working.  However books do not sell themselves, so here we were once again.
"It's been twenty odd years now, people know who I am, do I really need to advertise myself again?  Let me welch on the signings just this once."  I begged her.
"Hourice we both know if I let you off even this one time, I'll never be able to drag you out of that house ever again."  After twenty years of working with me, or working on me, depends on how you look at it, she knows me too well.
"And is that such a bad thing?  One I'll be able to do three books a year, that and you'll get your wish.  I won't be able to sc
:iconwyreth:wyreth 0 0
A strange sort of night
Sparkling spring mornings that will not dawn.
Hide bitter winter nights that will not end.
Smiling at the stars, in some cousins coat.
A gallery of faces meant for me.
I make out the statues stone smiles.
Waving silently at silhouettes that do not reply.
For them I toss stones into the bubbly brook.
Splashing words that add to its laughter.
Resting for I can walk no more.
:iconwyreth:wyreth 1 0
A strange sort of thought
There was a path to walk, and to lose.
Footprints that will remain cast in clay.
A clearing that holds a silent statue for me to hear.
My words becoming a sort of verbal frottage.
It is an odd existence to be your pigeon.
An idea with no were else to roost.
:iconwyreth:wyreth 0 8
Some people by wyreth Some people :iconwyreth:wyreth 0 2

Random Favourites

+You need them more than I do+ by angelwolf +You need them more than I do+ :iconangelwolf:angelwolf 9 14
Fortune travels in human guise
Riding with a paper caravan
Rolling along on a re-invention of the wheel
An expression of contempt towards the circle
Encouraging the frail imbalance
Dimensional doubts further tip the scale
It seems that no one will speak on behalf of the balance
Outside the shade of private fate
The only guise, the only name, the only way… is lockjaw
A population of portraits
With fortune wandering through the gallery
Collecting shapes from the spectrum of wrinkles and rings
Stealing pigment from the flesh
Draining color from the coin
Sharpening the sphere
Contempt towards the circle and the balance it holds
Fortune turns like the pages of an unwritten book
The shape of motion, the fate of shapes
As a page begins to write itself
Drawing over a portrait of no one
It casts further a private shade
Even as it buries the colorless flesh
These words fortune writes, with an empty hand and achromatic ink
In secret shapes no one would dare decipher
The book of fortune is at once
:iconinfernosilver:infernosilver 3 9
Dreamspeaker - Part II
What is it that you are trying to say?
I listen closely
And always, I obey.
But I just don't understand…
I don't understand a thing.
Maybe I can't,
Maybe I shouldn't,
Maybe I was never meant to understand anything at all…
What is it that I am trying to accomplish today?
I listen,
I obey,
I just do not understand…
…and I think that will be okay…
What is it that you are trying to accomplish tonight?
…and what role am I to play?
:iconinfernosilver:infernosilver 2 7
Regurgitated Lullaby by infernosilver
Mature content
Regurgitated Lullaby :iconinfernosilver:infernosilver 3 3
The Almighty Red Hand
He was a cutthroat
Right up to the moment of his final breath
He was a murderer
Right behind you within every shadow
He was a soldier
Right on the frontlines in every battle… of every war
He was a cutthroat
Right up to the moment of his murder
He was a dead man
Right from the moment of his first breath
Born only to kill… kill… kill… kill… kill… kill…
Born to die
By my blood-soaked hand
Now I will kill… kill… kill… kill… kill… kill… kill…
Dagger steady as a statue in my almighty red hand
Knuckles shattered, fingernails snapped, flesh forever stained
But my bloodied fist can never be broken
The almighty red hand of a killer, a murderer
We both are scarred, tattered, beaten by battle
Open gashes spilling blood, bruised skin filling up with color
Two bodies racing towards death
While the spirit rages on like an immortal titan
Everything else threatens to collapse
But the blade forged into my almighty red hand remains…
We fight for honor
We fight for the right to kill
:iconinfernosilver:infernosilver 2 12
WhO DUNNIT by gremsley WhO DUNNIT :icongremsley:gremsley 5 14 WAVAM Ch2 Pg7 by ZoeStead WAVAM Ch2 Pg7 :iconzoestead:ZoeStead 2 23 Wyreth by Idle-Hatter Wyreth :iconidle-hatter:Idle-Hatter 2 3 For Wyreth by Idle-Hatter For Wyreth :iconidle-hatter:Idle-Hatter 1 1 Disclaimer by Grimmalkin Disclaimer :icongrimmalkin:Grimmalkin 42 36
God in a Box
It all started this evening, only hours before
When I was walking home from a long, hard day's work
The vacant property next to my house had finally been sold last month
And construction of a new home had started recently
The constant noise was already approaching the limits of what my patience could bear
I saw that they had accomplished little more than digging a foot or so into the ground
Quite a lot to show for three days of relentless commotion
As I walked across the newly exposed earth, something tripped me
And I fell face first into the dirt
As I picked myself up, cursing and growling all the way
I turned to seek out the offending rock or root that dared block my passage home
But I found something else, something quite unexpected
Sticking up from the ground I saw the sharp corner of something that was partially buried
In a tired fury I clawed my way through the dirt and quickly excavated it
It was a small, wooden box
My first impulse was to smash it in the street right then and t
:iconinfernosilver:infernosilver 16 20



Wyreth Fini Drakan
Favourite genre of music: Damn near all.
Favourite style of art: Fantasy/abstract
MP3 player of choice: Winamp
Favourite cartoon character: Wacko Warner
Personal Quote: Realitty iz ann illuson cazed bye lak ov Alkohol

As wifemonster said... THAT IS HOW IT SHOULD BE DONE!
  • Listening to: Gotham Radio (
  • Reading: Terry Pratchet - Pyramids
  • Watching: Dexter
  • Playing: at life
  • Drinking: Vodkas.


Add a Comment:
youkai-hime Featured By Owner Oct 15, 2017   Artist
:chew: :eyes:
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
HONK HONK :chew:
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Jul 3, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
:glomp: :lick:
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Dec 21, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
husbando!!! how u r?!?!?!!?
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Nov 10, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
if that bastard harasses you i'll unleash the ANGER BEES!!!
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
:kiss: HUSBANDO!!!! gather the avocados, we attack at dawn.
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
you smell like papaya.
AomiArmster Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
there are demonic asparagus running about in the yard!! husbando!!!!! smite them!!!!!
Add a Comment: