Within an old, forgotten wood

A long dilapidated thing;

Through one—through all—a chorus broke,

An elegy did ring:

It groaned through pain,

It crooned with care

It reached the sky

And pierced through life.

It sung of those

Now long since dead

Their bodies rot

Their corpses stone.

I flee

I dread

I gasp

I falter

I trip

I sink

I breathe

No longer

Their picture frames,

Now cracked and smashed

A lin...

Silence.

Pure, unadulterated, beautiful silence filled Bea’s bedroom, and she loved it. She had begun to wake up earlier and earlier just to feel the beautiful nothingness upon her ears before the hustle and bustle of her busy day. Every bit of her life was given to another: her job and her academics working as just a mere example, but this time, the time when all was quiet, this time was hers. B...

Normally I would write from fantasy, but this prompt gives me the queerest feeling: the feeling that I must drop the guise of the author and send out raw thought through prose one may only write when he is completely candid. I hope that by sharing what I’ve seen I may inspire others to live on, to see the world in the way that I do. I implore you, reader, not to blindly agree or disagree with me b...

Come, creatures of the forest, view what shall place.

The woods shift and quake, they ask what man can make.

Oh these woods, they shall give, as they are grace.

Come and see, ye wretched one, the man that they can break.

Come, creatures of the forest, start off with a rush

See through the trees, look for a thing that’s rash,

A small child collapses, falling into the brush.

His breath smells of c...

Some say he was born from the depths of the earth, others that he was forged by giants, and some claim him to have risen from the forge. To Ash, this nonsense is but another distraction from the forge. Ever since he was a child, Ash had always been interested in the fine craft of the weaponsmith. He idled the whole day simply listening to the clang on the anvil; he listened with joy. He soon becam...

It had been ten days since his parents had taken his phone; he was getting desperate. He hadn’t done anything too bad after all. If the teacher asks the question “What is love?” to a bunch of middle-schoolers, she’d better expect *someone* to yell “Baby don’t hurt me, baby don’t hurt me no more!” They just didn’t get it. Who cares about this stupid lovey-dovey stuff anyway? That was just put in mo...

“C’mon, they have to have it somewhere!” Michael scanned the shelves as he muttered to himself. “Let’s see… Q, R… S! Okay, now where could it be…” His eyes darted from tome to tome as he nervously tried to find the book he desired. This is the fifth bookstore he’s been to; he knew it was here, now where could it be? He couldn’t find it, that is, until he did. His eyes lit up; there it was! He’d fo...

*Tick…* Sweat poured down Isaiah’s neck as he waited for his name to be called. *Tock…* He didn’t want to do this; not now, not ever. *Tick…* Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t he just go back to his family. All of this was pain: No matter your destination, you would certainly be ripped from your family and—

“Isaiah,” a voice rang from behind the counter, “It’s time.”

“D-do I have to?”...