Her brother had fallen in love again and of course this time the unfortunate girl was a priestess of his. Just as every other mortal Apollo became infatuated with, her end would come swift and true by the time his passion decided that she was no longer amusing.
Artemis loathed her brother.
He was a disgrace of a god and yet, in every corner of Greece, the humans worshipped him. They sacrificed their finest of cattle and ram, wrote the most profound poetry in his name, even prayed for his light to bless their children so they may grow strong and healthy...but they did not know the true Apollo as Artemis did. They did not know how his heart w
you're going to die, you're going to--
no, no--
death will not embrace you tonight.
( but sometimes you want it to-- why is it so inviting? )
don't give up, you can't.
but it hurts, mother-- it hurts.
but this is war, and war is brutal.
( you are a warrior, and warriors do not falter. )
so you fight; you endure.
your bones are made of steel; your skin is armor.
your tongue spills words of poison; your heart dances wildly to the fight song.
( perhaps there was courage in your blood all along. )
scholars tell us, stars do not truly fall
but how can that be when
they are dotted across your eyes?
and what manner of science
can disprove the map that has been drawn
across the curve of your shoulder?
I see the sun in your smile,
scattered across your spine
and kissed down your chin.
and when we cannot sleep at night,
I spend the twilight counting them all
each one my own lucky star.
Haven't you figured it out, yet? by thebalefulprimal, literature
Literature
Haven't you figured it out, yet?
waiting for the rain to shine on through
awake through the lunar eclipse,
what brought you here, fallen man,
so far from home and the river's bend?
don't you know there's a hole in the sun
that the heavens are crashing around your ears
can't you hear the vibration of the earth
shooting through your veins like spears?
does the universe not course through you
like tequila from the snowbanks
when your philosophy changes daily
and you can't determine your own rank?
history is doomed to repeat itself:
empires fall, kings are assassinated
what makes you think you can take the crown
when all it does it aggravate?
leaders are bred, not led
artist
enjoy the silence. by thebalefulprimal, literature
Literature
enjoy the silence.
echoes in the mountains
you can hear your h-e--a-r--t-b--e-a--t among them
and when the wind chases you,
you soak in the sound of its gentle hum.
the rolling river, the cascading hills,
each a music only played if you listen
this is your silence
Mother Nature's choir orchestrated live
even the deep woods have a sound
that reverberates deeply inside
penetrating all your defences
left vulnerable and raw
but beautifully so;
you drain yourself of all emotion,
filling to the brim
our original life force,
that which made us whole
from the beginning.