Randomonium09

TheUnderdog09 in certain circles

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Of Doors and Dark Places

He slumps against the windowless wall, head lolling, hair unkempt. Lining the dark, dusty floor are dim outlines, lost toys and forgotten heirlooms, the dingy detritus of eons. "Why do you stay?" He doesn't move. The darkness pulses. "What keeps you?" He looks up at the door, through the window. Black. He drops his head again. "Don't know." "Don't know what? What keeps you, or what's outside?" "Don't know." He turns halfway towards the wall. A sad old teddy bear soaks up more dust. A broken down easel settles further. Another hour passes by. "You're dying." "I know." "What are you going to do?" "Don't know." A yellowed page frees

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63 deviations

Literature

Of Doors and Dark Places

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32 deviations

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Literature

Of Doors and Dark Places

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5 deviations

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Of Doors and Dark Places by Randomonium09, literature

Literature

Of Doors and Dark Places

Again To Fly by Randomonium09, literature

Literature

Again To Fly

The snow lay dead against the leafless tree Which once bore fruit but brittle gray now stood. The clouded sun by only slight degree Bestowed a yellow hue upon the wood. Below the boughs there sat a faded bird Who once had flown but now stayed grounded here And who had nothing seen and nothing heard Beyond the barren field she held so dear. In silence huddled 'gainst the lonely cold, She chanced to cast her gaze out to the east, And through the mist a bright white light, behold! Yet swift reclaimed by mist, the light had ceased. Such sudden, blinding brightness shocked the bird And beckoned, yet repulsed, for how could she Leave

Symbols on the Rock by Randomonium09, literature

Literature

Symbols on the Rock

The gate is opening slowly. I barely even touched it. Funny. There are a lot of gravestones here. They look like they never end. Row after row. Identical. I'm stepping through the gate. Into the graves. The mist is curling around the gravestones and grabbing at my legs. The moon is staring at me, but no one else is watching. No one else is here. I'm standing at a monument. Surrounded by graves. There's a disk made of stone in the ground, with knots carved on it. And symbols. I can't read the symbols. They won't let me. There's a big rock on the other side of the disk. It's tall and thin and it looks sick. There are more symbols on it. Th