I have started this for having some points to give to my favorite arttist
I would very glad if you give me one point or if you visit my gallery. Thankssss
PremonitionA dark sea of clouds hung over us, foreboding our destiny. Thunders tore the sullen silence that kept us paralyzed, seated in the shadows of our temporally shelter. The ground heaved; the battle had started in the foot of the rocky hillside.Premonition by ~mangagirl11
The crimson sky glittered brightly, encouraging the blood-thirsty armies to kill. They were made up of armoured humans with big submachine guns and their terrible allies: the humanoid robots.
In just a few seconds, an ineffable chaos overcame the battlefield. The robots were skillful soldiers as they were controlled by top scientists hidden in the wires. Their eyes were like Medusa’s ones, but ins
Hate Myself TodayWhat's your sin?Hate Myself Today by =jackofalltrades0097
A lot of people say it's pride or lust, or wrath. Hell, they even say it with a hint of pleasure. Like it's some secret that they get to share with the world. But when I answer, my tone holds bitterness, like the taste of something you can't get out of your mouth.
Maybe it's not envy. Maybe it's that self loathing feeling of "You're not good enough". Does that count as envy? The desire to want to be someone else? To be your own worse enemy? He looks at me like he doesn't believe me. Like I'm making it up.
What do you have to feel envy about?
I glare at him. He knows how much I hate this
The TeacherHe kept an eye on the girl most of the time. She was a young little thing who needed a lot of attention when it came to her arts. Right now, she was sitting alone, yet again, staring blankly forward listening. He tilted his head, a finger gently resting on his lip. He could pick up on her thoughts if he really wanted to, but he had already gotten yelled at twice today for that. He shifted, leaning deeper into the couch. He knew she felt him there. It wasn't like she went anywhere without him these days.The Teacher by =jackofalltrades0097
He looked up as a woman walked by, giving him a cold look. She was never one to be welcoming like him. He tolerated the girl's atti
A Deliberation on DeathDeath overhanging like a cliff,A Deliberation on Death by *BlakeCurran
Like a storm cloud waiting on the horizon,
Dark and too long a fall for sanity
Or self-preservation to contemplate.
Death, overhanging, waiting, takes up
His glass and motions for Time to do
The same. Time does the same.
It's not like he has a choice anyway;
The puppet master, overhanging,
Hanging over, dangling strings,
Time afraid of his own imminence.
"To Death's whims." All to his whims.
And we think we can escape,
We ignore his presence
Or maybe we just get used to it.
But he is ever-menacing, brewing,
Behind the final curtain…and when
It lifts…what do you expect?