THE LITERARY
My poems, short stories, writings and mindless ramble.
Anything that my pencil or pen puts into my notebook goes here.
Shall we begin? Ok.
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THOR
For who my hammer leaves weeping,
For who my teeth are at seething,
For who my sword forced dead or sleeping,
The sin tolls only them.
Do apologize and believe it justifies.
My tears never shed for you
Yet, you ever weep for yourself.
My wounds never heal for you.
I leave you to die in your own Hell.
Retribution is my only comfort
An eye for an eye
Screaming a deadly battle-cry
Understand this - I hold no remorse.
I am leader and slave.
I am Thor - God of War.
You'll face the fear that I may bring.
You'll face the fear of that I am born.
Due to lead your final thrill.
Time demisied your fellow kind
As my hammer slams your final thrill,
Lapsed and snaped the llife you had.
My forgiveness is dear to you,
Yet, you pray to me in vain.
There is no mercy, no prayer
That can take away your pain.
You're not a hero until you die.
Sacrifice made to hide your lie.
Man's seed brought forth foul sons.
The battle is over, The War has begun.
You'll fancy not my retaliation
for every light in the sky is mine.
Collide wind and water upon this night.
Your life, your soul - I brutally smite.
Treading a line between Paradise and Hell...
How else am I to conquer?
(c) Amanda J. Bryan 2014
NYMPHODASIA
Sweet man, come in.
I time I fess up to my sins.
He died for my kin.
Yes, I once loved your god.
Bed sheets laced with cinnamon
All for a guttonous appetite
Devour the rest
In my shameful mess
For original sin - I ever burn in Hell.
When love lies,
Lust does entice.
Barefooted tramps
Caress his thighs.
Think of anything but her face.
His apple, tempting and rotting -
Enticed the hunger that they crave.
Sensual scents inducing euphoria
Lavishing his primal delights.
Spoiled, indiscreet legs wrap
and rampage his sight.
When done with you, finished and gone,
Think twice, sweet man.
Unashamed and undignified,
I share regret, not.
(c) Amanda J. Bryan 2014
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designer"The Arrowhead"
There was a Native man long ago...
When I was 9 or maybe so...
I met him at the end of Bible school
He sold arrowheads, in his mind I'm a fool...
I bought this piece though my allowance.
His long black hair said it was guidance.
Although I wait, I sit and stare...
His old voice begins to glare.
"Hey you! I remember you!"
..."Hey you...I remember you, too."
Although, I was a child but still admire...
That beautiful day could exist within miles...
I do not know what happened...
If he is dead or alive.
But memories remain precious
through the end of time.
The arrowhead still stands within my drawers...
from loving and kindness
my heart is yours.
..and may they bite,
their eyes shy away...
Somebody stands with you...
From far away.
-Amanda Bryan
(c) Amanda Bryan
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s. It’s easy on the eyes and a great go to font for titles, paragraphs & more.