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She is gone, Loki.I looked at him, not wanting to understand what he said.
"She is gone, Loki. Mother is dead." The words echoed in my head and I slowly looked back down at the book without a word. I wanted to scream, cry and throw things around me just to mention something. But most of all I wanted to take back my words. She was my mother even if I hate Odin for what he did. I do love her. I don't want to let go of her. I don't want to let go of her warmth. Thor sighed and slowly walked away.
"I will let you be, brother." I heard his steps as he walked away and when I could barley hear him anymore I screamed out my pain and threw the book through the cell. The furniture's started to move around as they reacted to my feelings and I shot them against the walls. I kicked at everything I could find and reach before I threw of the 'rich son' clothes, let out my hair in anger and sank down to the floor. Slowly the anger faded and I covered my eyes as I felt tears. Slowly, very slowly, I raised my knees and h
Frigga's way of dealing with LokiI winched surprised when a sky blue cape appeared in front off me with that long, familiar blond hair right before I was about to hit back Loki's magic and take him down. A surprised sound slipped out from most peoples lips as that green stream of magic split and went up in the sky.
"What was that?!" Tony said and we all looked at the person in front off me, Loki did the same, and both of us froze when we saw the face of the person.
"Mother..." Loki mumbled as he stared chocked at her.
"Mother?!" Tony yelled. "She looks to young for that!"
"But that's how it's." I said. "She is mine and Loki's mother, Odin's wife." I looked up at mothers blue dress and that sky blue cape that flew through the wind behind her.
"She is YOUR mother!" Loki yelled, suddenly angry.
"So do you not see me as your mother? Have you never done so?" He winched by her sudden question and looked down in the ground. He hesitated before he clenched his fist, looked up at her and I could see from here that he had tears
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More