A sweetie pie with fire in her eyes
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Amber leaves whisper, shadows stretch with pumpkin light Halloween draws near.
By Cadma4 months ago in Poets
Scarlet leaf drifting, caught in a hush of cool air earth waits, breath held still.
The world tilts forward not sudden, but steady, like a glass filled too close to the rim, like a road narrowing under the weight of its own warning.
The lanterns of Lumen were said to be the brightest in the world. They burned without smoke, without wick, without heat, and, if you believed the Magistrates, without consequence. At dusk, when the lamplighters made their rounds, the city slipped from gold to pearl, from visible to precise, and every edge gained a clean outline of door frames, cobbles, faces and laws.
By Cadma4 months ago in Fiction
A single shot across the stage, not from a battlefield, but a campus wall. The crowd gasped … some in grief, others in silence,
On September 10, 2025, Charlie Kirk the extreme conservative activist and Turning Point USA cofounder was shot and killed while speaking at Utah Valley University (UVU). Authorities say a single round was fired from a nearby campus building, roughly 200 yards from the stage, striking him about twenty minutes into his remarks. Investigators have not yet released a definitive motive.
By Cadma4 months ago in History
I like to be prepared I’ve seen the dark side of humanity I’ve seen the dirty side of humanity I’ve watched the animals and tricksters
She’s not as nice as you all like to say I’ve never described myself in that way I have always said I am kind not nice Your treachery has earned you that price
The Emberlight Covenant The city of Jeuno rose from the cliffs like a dream of white stone, its spires tipped in banners that swayed in the salt wind. Bridges as narrow as a dagger’s edge arched over the chasms between towers and the streets hummed with the life of a hundred nations. Traders hawking wares from desert caravans and smiths hammering sparks into fresh-forged steel; wandering minstrels singing in tongues from the farthest reaches of Vana’diel.
By Cadma5 months ago in Fiction
Zelma’s hair is the color of honey when the light hits it just right. Not the raw kind, but golden and warm, the kind you find in glass jars on corner store shelves, glowing under cheap fluorescent bulbs. Her skin reminds you of the color of the sun, almost like the warmest day yet crisp day in Autumn. But her face semi broad nose, full lips, almond eyes with matching mono-lids whispers a different story. People never know what to make of her.
It starts with slow steps not dramatic, not loud. Just the quiet unraveling of threads no one sees. You laugh, and the sound is real enough
By Cadma5 months ago in Poets
Connected at words and music; like gold A sweet future between us, untold Late nights, dinners & lounging, love behold Daytime panty pulling & kisses, love grows
