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Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by *lady-marian (01), Sep 25, 2010.

  1. Hey guys!!! XDXD here's my locked gate poem! XD

    The gates of Hell await ahead
    The entrance to the realm of dead 
    The pathway to the empty shoals
    Home of ghosts and dying souls

    The gates are high and lined with spears
    Midst faces of the the dead that leer
    With iron walls that lock the way
    And tower high to block the day

    With barricades of iron bars
    With sentinels as ghostly guards
    The way is blocked by Hounds of Hell
    With dripping fangs and claws that fell

    Beware the poisoned mists that seep
    Beware the vengeful dead that creep
    For see the mounted heads on stakes
    And stop before you meet their fate

    The door itself is small and warn
    Made of skulls and bones they shorn
    The lock though small will never give
    While those that try are those that live

    The key inside is in your reach 
    Discover it, their walls you'll breach
    And enter in the City of Bone
    And glimpse the Dark Lord on his throne

    But entrance comes at quite a cost
    For pay the fee and all is lost
    The Gates will open on your way
    And down in Hell your soul shall stay
     
  2. Dark, but really cool!
     
  3. I realized that after I wrote it...haha most of my poems are...XDXD i try to use the word black and night as often as I can it seems haha
     
  4. Hey guys! There a war going on?
     
  5. Nice ones guys! And yes irin, topic is locked gate, I'll post mine in a sec!
     
  6. The gate is locked

    We follow the road,
    Walk along the path,
    Always continuing,
    Never ending,
    The road of life,
    So long, seemingly forever,
    Will it ever end?
    We walk along the road,
    To get to the gate,
    To learn good from evil,
    To learn our fate,
    But what if the gate was locked?
    Would we ever leave?
    Would we ever die?
    Or would we live forever,
    In a kind of twilight?
    Alive, but not alive.
    I think through the years,
    As I walk along the road,
    I think about love,
    Life,
    Laughter,
    But mostly death,
    And what will happen,
    When we reach it,
    The gate of judgement.
    As old as I am,
    I can feel the gate nearing,
    Looming high above me,
    Silent to the bone.
    As I get closer,
    I hear the wails,
    Of the dead, 
    Waiting outside the gate,
    Yearning to be let in,
    For their pain to be taken away.
    I move through the crowd,
    Until I reach the gate,
    It's right in front of me,
    Locked.
     
  7. lady can u give me a topic and I'll try to do one
     
  8. I wanna try that one!
     
  9. Is it open submissions?
     
  10. You can still join
     
  11. the glass was cracked,
    no reflection to see myself,
    the glass was dull,
    nothing to see in it,
    the glass was locked,
    showing none it's heart,
    the glass was shattered,
    little bits scattered on the ground,
    the glass was broken
     
  12. I'd *** suposed to be mirror
     
  13. lol I changed it cos. idy
     
  14. Broken Mirror
    In the mirror I see my face,
    Dull and lifeless as they say.
    Ugly and beaten is all I see
    Why does my life have to be?
    With my hand in an angry fist
    and my expression plain and lifeless,
    I quickly smash the mirror into bits.
    Pieces shatter everywhere,
    and with my courage I direly dare,
    to look at the destruction I have caused,
    and to my knees I sink, defeated and lost.
     
  15. Wow kimber, ur really improving!
     
  16. Kimber… that was awesome!!! Wow…
     
  17. Many days go in line.
    My mirror stays itself, though mine,
    reflection cannot be revealed,
    Because of broken glass.

    One angry moment, small mistake,
    That any, upset person makes.

    Though shards,
    They puncture my own fist,
    They cannot pierce the teary mist,

    That sits upon my face,
    Upset with my knuckles' place.
    Which sits impaled by broken glass,
    My dying anger cannot last,
    For their it sits,
    The broke glass.

    Cleaning up the mess I make,
    A different feeling starts to take.

    A bad emotion, nothing less,
    The feel of loss, of Sadness.

    So every time I start to tear,
    I thing about
    My Broken Mirror.
     
  18. Stepping through mirrors

    the rippling bloom of lights refracting
    spawned in acts of tips retracting
    once glass no more by uttered magic
    reflect anew in morphs sporadic
    a crystal splash in doubt; unreal
    a wave procuring dark appeal
    fold by eyes in calming surface
    nature strains regaining purchase
    once again through fingers sinking
    once again my eyes are drinking
    once again my fingers feeling
    an icy splash to send me reeling
    it cant be real; in vain denial
    its natures laws that i defile.
    Reflections claim my outstretched shoulder
    release the fears that inward smolder
    unnatural door before implied
    unnatural gate again denied
    where in there will i reside
    to answer more i step inside.