|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
On the Hunt, PoemWaiting by the midnight stream,
Tucked away near the icy brook,
It's eyes in the darkness seemed to gleam.
Waiting in it's snow-covered nook.
As it hears the hoot of an owl,
It matched it with a chilling howl.
Railroad Spikes and Lies: Prologue "Oh, so we're finally awake are we?" called a voice from beyond the blackness in my mind, seeming to shake every fiber of my being into waking.
As I opened my eyes to a grey and black blur below my feet, gravel crunched under my bare feet. I felt a sudden heave and I spit blood over my black pants and on to the gravel below.
"Well, my my, Mister West don't we seem to be in a predicament here. My unfinished railroad that would offer me the chance at becoming the wealthiest man this continent has ever seen should run right through this mountain." The figure took a deep breath, and then sighed.
I tried to move my hands to my face, but they were tied firmly behind me. I tried, instead, to blink my eyes into focus.
The tall structure of a business man came into focus. His top hat held in his hand behind his back, and with the other he held a pocket watch. His face was charming, with a neatly trimmed beard. He had long shoulder length hair pull
Vietnam Operation: Search and Destroy The dull sound of a helicopter blade rippling the air echoed through the brush and the trees. Maybe the Viet's were finally getting close, Hoped Corporal Alex Wilson as he whipped large beads of sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his regulation army jacket.
The sounds of the rotary blades atop the helicopter would come and pass; it swept the area looking for the target that was due within Wilson's firing range two days ago.
Wilson wished the damned thing would just go away.
"Don't need a large bird flying overhead," Wilson mumbled. "They already only move at night. Do they want to scare them into not moving at all?" Wilson dismissed his thought. He never really cared about the psychological part of warfare, just as long as the job was done, and done well.
The helicopter r
Splinter Cell: Revelations "Sam!" yelled a woman with short red hair, shaking the body of a man with short brown hair that peaked in the front, with a stubble-like beard connecting to his hair. "What Grim?" said the man opening his green eyes and sitting up. "Thank god, i thought you checked out on me." said the red haired woman hugging him. "Where Sarah?" Sam asked rubbing his shoulder where a bullet had penetrated his grey shirt entered his shoulder and exited the back of it. He stood up and stumbled a bit. "You should worry about yourself first, you took some nasty shots." Grim said standing him up the rest of the way. "Cut to the chase Grim, who took her? your with Third Echelon, They see everything!" Sam shrugged her off but nearly fell. "We both know Echelon is done Sam, you ended it." Grim stepped forward, she was pale and wore a small leather jacker that ended above her stomach, she wore a white shirt under it that tucked into khaki pants. "We both know that
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More