Time truly flies
When it is nothing you are beside.
For oft it is something we are inside,
And naught we are presently outside.
Yet that peace found only on Death’s side
Is only found as one dies.
– Maya Desdemona
Storms
The swift torrents of rain
Crashed and roared in pain,
While the staggering tides did sway
And the torturous currents did run away.
Th'heavenly faucet that day did break,
While in this glorious spectacle my eyes did partake.
– Maya Desdemona
A Thought To Share:
Just realising that you have been gashed will not erase the Scar that is bound to form. The most you can do is tend to that Wound and ensure it Never opens again.
– Maya Desdemona
After The Words Are Exchanged
I have been cruel.
I don't know if it was necessary.
I don't know if it was deserved.
All I know is that I have been cruel.
Why was it so?
Do I even regret it?
Have I truly stooped so low in this life?
The thought plagues me.
I know not what I have done,
But the thorns around my heart
Constrict with knowing silence.
They were merely words,
Having no effect on the receiver.
But I must live
Knowing I have been cruel.
– Maya Desdemona
A Prompt For Anyone Interested:
Such a hideous creation could only be eradicated by its creator.
Or so they thought.
Perhaps the fact that the creator was deranged enough to create such a thing was warning enough.
A Casualty
Across the pond filled with reeds,
The lone soldier's tall figure heaves.
Weary of his deeds,
He is now one with the weeds.
One can only hope that he finds peace,
And that his soul is now at ease.
– Maya Desdemona
Revenge Served Hot: A Short Story
The kettle’s high pitched whistling seemed to only fuel her growing anger, while the tea that was furiously bubbling in it was now as bitter as her tears. Towards him she felt only resentment, but she always sugared his tea so he would not notice. He never did, anyway.
Only, with the sugar that was there was in his tea today, served as it always had been, a little poison had slipped from her vengeful gaze into his to-go beverage.
– Maya Desdemona
The Burning Cold
Walk through the Hearth
As you would ice,
And from the cold flames
Your new self will rise.
Behead your past,
Be off with its head.
After the Flames have cleansed you,
You will freeze your dread.
Succumb to the Cold,
Invite the warmth of the Fireplace
For your sins have been frozen,
But your pitiful self remains.
– Maya Desdemona
A Conclusion To The Thirty Day Journey
In spite of the lateness of this post, I most sincerely thank all my dear viewers for accompanying me on this thirty day journey, the previous post marking the end of both this journey we have shared and my vacation. As for what the future holds in store for us, it will surely be a matter of intrigue (that I hope, will not disappoint) as I will continue to post content and keep writing, for I remain,
Very Truly Yours,
Maya Desdemona.
Day Thirty: Waltzing Masquerade
In this ballroom,
They are bride and groom.
But it truly seems,
That this arrangement attracts doom.
For they are but puppets,
Forced to dance on a never-ending stage,
So they play their parts to perfection,
Praying that someday,
Things will change.
For whom are you putting on this act?
To which great masquerade artist
Are you trying to prove yourself?
– Maya Desdemona
Luminousis 