underorion's avatar

underorion

the correct answer is: -rumbles-
11 Watchers189 Deviations
7.7K
Pageviews
My, it has been a long time. Oh, the stories I could tell you, my friends. Life has been borderline insane of late.
Long ago, I met someone wonderful; and we came together. We are still together, and for nearly two years, now; I hope this remains so. There are questions in it, now.
Regardless, I believe we will revolve around each other for quite some time. This one, my much-loved, had cancer, like poison in his lungs. But we made it through this. Even I, despite who and how I am, did pray for him. He is healthy again. We were very lucky.  We still are; there have been further scares with his health. And now, with mine. There is fear in my heart. The bone of my skull is deeply infected, at this point. I have been a sickly wreck for months. It may be the death of me, in the long run. I am afraid.
Should I not, however, there is hope. I wish to go somewhere better, and I; we; are pursuing it. Things may yet get better. I may struggle out of the waves at last, though they try their best to drag me under.
Wish me luck.
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
hello lovelies. this is just as a note; all apologies for my lack of posts of late, but classes have started again and so the time goes. I'm in a couple of writing classes, and in a matter of minutes I'll be posting some of the writing from them. Keep in mind, it's mainly written from prompts, unfinished and unpolished. enjoy, if you happen to look.




Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold

When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood's run stale

I wanna hide the truth
I wanna shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide

No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide

When the curtain's call
Is the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl

So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you've made

Don't want to let you down
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for you
Don't want to hide the truth

No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide

They say it's what you make
I say it's up to fate
It's woven in my soul
I need to let you go

Your eyes, they shine so bright
I want to save that light
I can't escape this now
Unless you show me how

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide








life's been strange again... there's a ring upon my finger but I'll confess, even I don't know everything that it means; it means that I love, and I am loved. it means that this wolf-dog, collared scruffy mutt, has found Home. and Home is a bright blue-eyed, gold-touched lion-thing, my archon, my angel, wreathed in phoenix-flame and run all down with shining fur. Home is the one that stayed when the other fled; for once again, my love of the many has led to much crashing and stumbling, and my fox, my rust-furred and golden-eyed, has fled, and left me with only sunshine and sky; the blue and the gold, light-eyed lion, Home. the love remains but the trust is gone, the staying in my heart is gone, and we come back to the ring on my finger. bright arches of silver, with the shine of blue all through it; this promise. perhaps we do not know what path we tread these days, but we know we do not tread it alone. I miss so much of the lives I have had, and I struggle with what I now have. and I go on. russet and grey, to silver and gold, blue and gold, and into new things, new colours, new temporary finality; this is my world now, this mingling, this silver and blue. you are my world now, lion; do with me as you will. 
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

Green grows the laurel and soft falls the dew

Sorry am I love, I'm parted with you

Sorry am I, but contented must be

She loves another far better than me


I passed my love's window, both early and late

The look that she gave me, it made my heart break

The look that she gave me, could ten thousand kill

She loves another, but I love her still


Green grows the laurel and soft falls the dew

Sorry am I love, I'm parted with you

Sorry am I, but contented must be

She loves another far better than me


I wrote her a letter in short, rosy lines

The answer she gave me was twisted and twined

You write your love letters, fancy and fine

You write to your love, and I will write mine


Green grows the laurel and soft falls the dew

Sorry am I love, I'm parted with you

Sorry am I, but contented must be

She loves another far better than me


Now sometimes I wonder why women love men

And oft'times I wonder why they love them

For women are faithful and kind, don't you know

And men are deceivers where ever they go


Green grows the laurel and soft falls the dew

Sorry am I love, I'm parted with you

Sorry am I, but contented must be

She loves another far better than me




As a note, I do not, nor will I claim to, agree with any of the more sexist elements to this song...sex and gender are not the definition of who someone is. So that last part feels somehow inaccurate, inadequate; but this song, the feeling of it, touches exactly on someplace I keep hidden within the best I can, these days. My fox played it, unintentional, and the tears escaping from the deep and secret places within my heart and mind...they were as real, or more so, than anything else in this world I am in. Know that, if nothing else. After a long dispute with many people, some of them dead, and a lot of them myself, I have come to the conclusion that this concept of 'true love' is likely real. And, even that, is not yet a concrete belief. The only defining characteristic I have yet found is that it does not dull; and nor does it end.


I don't have a link for this one, I'm afraid. If I am able to gather my courage, perhaps I will post it in my own voice. But that's not a promise.



Right now I'm lying about, the only one awake on my block, and perhaps one of few in all the city, of those who don't run night shifts. It's in those middling hours where one tends to be unsure of whether it counts as really late at night or is now just really early in the morning. I am tempted to wander the streets, as I once did, perhaps with my brave Dog at my heels; no lead would be necessary at this hour, even. The night creatures do not know the laws of Man. If I could, I would slip out of the back door and in my thickly calloused bare feet, walk the night-streets until I should come to a place I know, and perhaps stop to rest there for the night. Or, like as not. Keep going. Indeed, at this hour and in this mood I would cross thousands of miles to find myself again; I have become quite lost. Although I suppose more lost to my own rambling than anything else, perhaps. Tomorrow is a date I will always remember. June sixteenth. The day of many things, for me, a year or two in the past, come tomorrow. A gain, and a loss, and a win. Something new to my life, one hope for a future ripped away, and another path opening before my eyes. But tomorrow on its own will not be so grand or terrible, I think. I will go fishing in amongst the plants and animals that I love so much more than the average homo sapiens.   And do dishes, and kiss my loved ones, and make plans. And at some point, I'm sure, I will wander off and sit silent, for a moment. Perhaps I will shed a tear or two; I'm only mortal, after all (though if there are angels in a heaven somewhere, I am sure they have wept more, for all of their existence, than anything that dwells on this planet, this Terra, Gaia, Earth, could ever understand). And, in my own way, in the deep and hidden places in my heart, the truths will be repeating themselves over and again: life has been turning and twisting and changing since it started, and will continue to do so; I am growing older, and once I was younger and made the foolish mistakes of a youngster (and often I still do); I have no idea who I am now, if ever I did; and I will always remain stupidly, completely in love with someone I no longer know, no matter how deep it becomes buried. And it's okay. I don't expect a world to blossom at my fingertips anymore, just because there is one inside of me made from the light cast by all of those "you"s I write for. It's never just one. And that's okay. I will die someday, and that's okay too. It's all okay. Even if it's not right; or will never feel right; even if the world changes to be unrecognisable; I have a phoenix at my back. I am wolf, and I am human, and I am both, and I am neither. I am boy, and I am girl, and I am both, and I am neither. I am triumphant. But I regret. I wish all of you a happy June sixteenth.

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Oh how do you do, young Willy McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down beside your graveside
And rest for a while 'neath the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
And I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the great fallen in 1916
Well I hope you died quick
And I hope you died clean
Oh Willy McBride, was is it slow and obscene

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined
And though you died back in 1916
To that loyal heart you're forever nineteen
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane
In an old photograph torn, tattered, and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

The sun shining down on these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished long under the plow
No gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard that's still no man's land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
And a whole generation were butchered and damned

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And I can't help but wonder oh Willy McBride
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you the cause?
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing and dying it was all done in vain
Oh Willy McBride it all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?



www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TyKtp…




I love this song, ever since I heard it on my buddy Dom's phone the other day
it's...sad, but wonderful.
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Featured

Bear me up high, winds of the earth by underorion, journal

all in all is all we are by underorion, journal

oleander darkness making whispers in your heart by underorion, journal

the breath of a dying star might just pull you in by underorion, journal

the only love I've known's a chimney sweep by underorion, journal