It's never too early for a little Halloween by Hetalialova, literature
Literature
It's never too early for a little Halloween
Humans are terrifying creatures. It takes a lot to kill a man. You hit him once, he stumbles but does not fall, twice, he is hurt but now enraged. Something truly horrifying about a human is their ability to think and the primal animalistic anger that burns up inside them when their instinct to survive takes over; no animal stands a chance against us.
We create stories and folklores describing beasts of all shapes and sizes, monsters that prowl the night thirsty for blood. We feel panic coarse through our veins as we hear these stories and yet we forget that it is man who destroys these monsters in the end. Somehow always finding a way to de
I started running. It was a beautiful feeling. The ground blurred beneath my feet as I pushed off, the muscles in my legs bunching and forcing against the strain. The long grass whipped against my bare legs, itching them, burning them, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop because I wanted to believe that I could run on forever. I wanted myself to believe that we were a boundless existence, able to roam as breaths of wind caressing the skin of the earth and as forces of water beating down upon jagged rocks. My breathing became labored and I could feel the fire in my throat wanting to be let out, and so I screamed. The sound echoed
Somewhere laughter resonates
Thawing the coldness in thy heart
Somewhere I hear breath intake
Smiles being shared on thy part
Somewhere in a far-off place
There might have once been summer
The fields in which were gold enlaced
Now cold barren and darker
Somewhere once on a blue moon
Love had been faced and shared
The flowers swirling in full bloom
Now just lay frozen; ensnared
War had not always been raging
A war now fought well and alone
You, the one and only engaging
Your heart forever set in stone
The snow drifted lazily over a surreal landscape. The pine trees perfectly aligned in the horizon on the edge of a cool and mysterious forest. Frost patterns formed on the edges of a cabin window, which overlooked the rolling hills of white, complimented by the ebony sky.
Inside the cabin, a thick wooden log lay ablaze in a brick fireplace. The flames flicking to and fro, as the fire hungrily consumed it. The warm glow of orange light lit up the small room of the cabin; radiating friendliness, like a welcoming embrace, towards the bitter lonely cold outside.
A Christmas tree stood, tall and lush with ornaments, in the middle of the scarc
Hands grappling, outstretched
Reaching forwards to a star
The night with its cold winds
Icy, ragged, slowing breaths
Blue pale lips of a survivor
Fighting for the sweet intake of breath
Life slowly pooling onto ice
Nothing to live, nothing to die for
Never was the thought of sleep so fawning
The fire of the fight softly dwindling
Seeping its warmth into the frozen earth
Forever drawn from seeing the morning
The open darkening skies
Enveloping, soothing, welcoming
A flicker of submission
The shortage of life; left with demise
All that was cast for was not but vain
Fingers painfully unclasping; gone
Maybe in another time; a ne
Hetalia
Gilbert (Prussia)X His little brother (Ludwig/Germany)
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Against the endless cerulean sky-
Crumbling, falling, helpless, flailing-
Thoughts tumbled through his mind. All these words left to say, all these smiles left to share.
Sadness and resignation alighted in his eyes-
Would this painful memory be his last? This world containing so much life and yet he’s never felt more alone.
Images, memories, names, flashing by-
Who is here to catch him now? Falling, forever. Was the ground always this far away?
Yearning, aching, heartbreaking-
One image came up from the flow of