Bambi347

Your love is a lonely courtroom Judge. Jury. Sentence. The whole truth and nothing but Now present your evidence. Guilty till proven innocent Any doubt will do. The slammed door is your gavel The facts are yours to skew. What am I trying to prove When you've already made up your mind? When you've thrown away the jail key For my imagined crimes. But you can't lock up my heart And when my cell is quiet, I dare to dream of life outside In my private silent riot. This is a mistake of your own making When you forged me in fire. And when my love turned cold for you I solidified as iron. Your knuckles will crash and break Upon my metal s

"I could have done it father!" Loki screamed, his last desperate attempt to win his father's favour, "I could have done it!" He felt his voice falter, knowing in his heart that it was in vain. "For you! For all of us!" His eyes met that of the Allfather, willing this man, his father, to notice him, to look upon him the same way he did Thor, to be proud of him. He had tried so hard. He did not have Thor's strength, or his accomplishments in battle, he did not have the golden hair of the house of Odin, nor did he have Thor's gift of being immediately liked by whomever he came across. Maidens would fall at Thor's feet, but only looked upon Loki

For deviantART's 12th birthday, the staff decided to throw a melodic surprise party for Fella. They gathered at Fella's favorite restaurant, The Fancy Leopard, with presents in hand. Llama brought Fella to the door and once they stepped in, all of the staff screamed, "Boo-ya!" Fella was so shocked that he instantly wanted. He opened his presents to find that Llama had given him 12 bicycles. He was amazed! He would never forget that night.

My heart is whole once again, But far away from me, In a place as far as Sun delay, Stolen; across the sea. On silver thread of artery You play my very soul; But when the distance screams... Forgetting to strum; you pull. My fabric unwinds like elastic; Frays when you pull too much. I am knotted together to you; When you run, I fall apart. I never doubt this fine thread, For I know I will it to be, But rope is what I hope for; One you've thrown to me.

Watching, waiting, with bated breath, Silence invades; a gentle disease. Here I am sitting, patient as death, Feeling my dreams through the trees. The sweet scent of after-storm Exhilarating; cold in my lungs. My solid oak, withered and worn, Has listened as the blue jay sung. Deep breaths, feeling the open Expanse of unending space. It is here where anything can happen, Pulse beats with steady pace. I am the hawk, stealthy and swift, And the lark who sings of joy. I spread my wings and up I lift, Freedom is my only toy. Always, always, looking high, Feet never on the ground. Owning with nought but a sigh, Never do my eyes