ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
They call us monsters
We, who never asked for this
They, with their
Cruel fire and
Burning silver
Who hunt us
Like the animals we are not
Driven away
By people we thought we knew
The outcasts
Not just of society
But of humanity
Is it any wonder
That we hate you?
You call us:
"Beast"
"Horror"
"Predator"
Don't you know how you look,
From out here?
Never thinking that we
We, are humans too
And the cry goes up:
"Kill the werewolf!"
"The monster is here!"
They call us monsters.
What do we call them?
We, who never asked for this
They, with their
Cruel fire and
Burning silver
Who hunt us
Like the animals we are not
Driven away
By people we thought we knew
The outcasts
Not just of society
But of humanity
Is it any wonder
That we hate you?
You call us:
"Beast"
"Horror"
"Predator"
Don't you know how you look,
From out here?
Never thinking that we
We, are humans too
And the cry goes up:
"Kill the werewolf!"
"The monster is here!"
They call us monsters.
What do we call them?
Literature
Beetle
I am a beetle trapped between w p i a n n d e o s w suffocating glass and body f o l d i n g The shuttering, s h u d d e r ing — then finally still.
Literature
Nightmare
She found herself in a garden of silver ivy, far away from the comfort of her warm bed and home.
As she sat on the cold ground with her vision tilting, hallucinating all the while, her eyebrows knitted together. Her surroundings were impossible to focus on as the stone walkway beneath her bit sharply into her palms. Every curve, every line, and every shadow around came into razor sharp focus, all clear lines and angles, then melted away. Shadows slunk around her, giggling and chattering madly. The excitement smelled rotten in the cool night air.
In such an unexpected turn of events, the girl suddenly felt drunk and very silly. What a child
Literature
- Dream -
- Dream -
Full moon lit my path, as I ran deep within the dark forest.
The sound of men not to far echoed behind me.
My breath was heavy; the cold air seemed to be making my lungs
Feel like ice.
My bow on my back felt like stone.
But there was no use using it.
There was just too many of them.
I felt like dropping everything and hitting the sky, but there just too many
trees. Not enough room for my wings to spread across, all I could do was run.
*thoughts ran through out my mind. Who are these men?*
*Why were they after me, and who wanted me dead?*
As I ran deeper in the forest, a black image on the ground caught my eye.
When I was closer
Suggested Collections
HUmans can be so in-humane. And also inhuman.
© 2012 - 2024 FaeFallen
Comments6
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
More than your poem that reminds me "Skinwalkers" I like your description in which I find these words to reply.
That's humanity's quality keep falling out from the word. Far and far.
That's humanity's quality keep falling out from the word. Far and far.