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Madness of the SoldierThe soldier stood, at the edge of his mind;
Treading the line of his sanity,
Kill or be killed, all he'd been taught,
"Your job is not to think!"
The soldier stood, on the brink of despair;
The devil and demons for company,
Grenades and bullets - the life he chose,
Tanks and RPGs.
The soldier stood, conflicted inside;
Searching his soul for the truth,
One man's hero, another's paraiah,
Ordered to die for the "good of the nation".
The soldier stood, thinking of home;
Of safety, of love, of comfort and warmth,
Of farcical laws, domestic troubles,
Petulant squabbles and false self-importance.
The soldier stood, at the edge of his mind;
Dancing a jig with his madness,
Visions of pain, destruction and chaos,
Crawling like insects inside of his head,
The soldier gave in,
By no mortal enemy;
Slain by his consciousness.
Empire of Terra IIntroduction
Three thousand years have passed since mankind first reached for the stars. The Terran Empire, under the leadership of the King, spans across fourteen star-systems. However, resources are short, and the Empire's law enforcement is buckling under the strain of so many worlds. Alien races have both helped and hindered, but the result remains the same. The edges of the Empire are heavily defended, as is the centre, but there is a band of absolute lawlessness in between. This is known as the Open Space. Law Enforcement does exist out there, it's true, but where it does it is beaurocratic and corrupt. Many bands of mercenaries, pirates, thieves, gangs and pretty much the dregs of the galaxy thrive in the Open Space. An effort has just been launched to stamp down on all of this crime, as it has grown to such proportions that it is de-stabilising the infrastructure of the Empire, and enemies of the Terrans have begun to mass on its borders.
The leader of the first segment in this
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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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