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Literature
The Elementals Part 4
The Elemental Part 4
The winds were threshing about, sands swirling in eddies that attempted to swallow everything that it came into contact with.
The Artificer was hovering in his full splendour, draped in a tan cloak with a hood concealing his wizened features. The creator
of the Earth had his branch-like arms crossed as he stared down at his fairy captive.
Crysalla was shuddering and went speechless in awe. The Artificer had the inherent effect of exacting reverence from his creations, so it
came to him as an embarrassing surprise when Zion executed her escapade.
''Why did you revolt against me puny girl?''
The Artificer asked in a thunderous voice that roiled the sand. The Artificer removed his hood, he was still in midair, and focused a pair
of breaming golden eyes at the fairy. In a flourish of his massive palm, the beetles closed in on Crysalla and she trembled even more.
The false God then extended his palm to stop the bugs in their track.
''I asked you a rudimentary question,
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Literature
The Elementals Part 3
The Elementals Part 3
In the meantime, humanity was springing up within the continents, they travelled from point to point, domesticating other animals to serve their will and acquired knowledge on skills like language and agriculture with the intellect of their advanced brains.
The Artificer was still immensely upset at the fairies who he vilified as the defilers of his paradise. The self-proclaimed “God” became wary of every little detail within his existence as the betrayal of the fairies had dealt a crushing blow to his weak continence.
In order to exact control over the whereabouts of his newly appointed spy, Numinous-the-fairy, the Artificer crafted a small platoon of shadow-melding hunters to tail him- in other words, the veritable spy was being espied. This was clearly the behaviour of a paranoid “God”.
It was however unfortunate, due to the flagrant oversight of the Artificer that the spies of the spy were mostly a bunch of lazy, self-serving vermin and
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Literature
The Elementals Part 2
The Elementals Part 2
Zion and her band of fairies flew miles on end, they would halt for sustenance at rivers and lakes whenever the group felt exhausted. In their little heads, the main mission was to outrun the clutches of the artificer and his mindless enforcers so they needed the strength.
The artificer possessed no qualms about hunting the runaways and punishing them dearly. His first act was to summon the clouds to do his bidding. They were to direct lightning strikes upon any creature resembling the fairies. The leader of the clouds, Numinous, abetted with satisfaction as he was a pompous being who wanted nothing more than to destroy anything he considered inferior to the clouds, including mankind.
A preternatural storm brewed and the landscape turned from a vibrant green to a wasteland of shadowy doom, concealed by foreboding thunderclouds.
Numinous and his favoured generals, Vapore and Bolt, scoured the lands menacingly and many butterflies and hummingbirds were executed in t
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Literature
The Elementals Part 1
The Elementals
From the Blind Eternities, there was an artificer who sat alone on his gilded throne within the stunning sky. He looked around him and eventually felt bored of his loneliness. He began to draw the energies from the Blind Eternities to create small delicate beings that came to be known as pixies.
The pixies would flutter their exiguous wings in a stream of blue and entertained the Artificer in his newly-formed throne room, since he felt that he deserved more than a measly chair. However, when the artificer grew sick of his creation, he would place the pixies inside an enormous cage. The pixies were very sad and one day, the leader among them, the keenest of mind and brightest of fairy glow, Zion, decided to stage a revolt.
As the centuries passed, the Artificer created more products from the great eye in his mind. Since, he was frequently bored and had a capricious personality, he would keep himself constantly pleased lest he lost his calm and destroyed everything in rage
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Literature
Petrichor
Petrichor
The smell of rain is inhaled within my body,
a calmness overcomes my deepest agonies.
The chilling wind accompanying the cooling night,
expels my body of any fright.
Awash with a keen sense of purpose,
I am no longer imprisoned within the curse.
My mind has begun to take on a life of its own,
failure was merely on loan.
I am inspired to conjure my strongest weapon,
my mind!
I am of honour to incline.
The suffering of yesterday has ended,
tomorrow will be positively intended.
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Literature
The Unicorn
Wake up your sweet little head,
the world needs you off your comfy bed.
Go forth and reap the rewards of this earth,
you will be blessed from the divines above.
Be realistic, do not lose yourself in serendipity.
We can only work with the etchings in reality.
The unicorn of fables long uttered by the ancients, come from your mind, within its caverns.
They trample upon the boring peat of life and marshals glory in their stride. You bore the brunt of a doomed collective world, filled with dark omens trapped in a twirl.
Wake your sweet pretty little head, stop living a life that you will soon regret.
Be that magical beast of ye old lore, quit being a blatant petty bore.
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Literature
Surreptitiously Lodged
Surreptitiously Lodged
I have been lurking in secret among the rocks near the sea,
calming waves and soothing breezes hit me.
The fish are afraid to ever greet me,
they say that land terrifies them, it truly beats me.
Carrying my home wherever I go,
I lug an entire gigantic household.
The horseshoe chaps had it easy,
their shells are always attached to them, it is their destiny.
Me on the other hand, always picks and choose,
as my body grows, I am granted clues.
Shape and size, these are just some of what I must know,
also the previous tenant must be evicted from the get-go.
Innocent children saunter in groups,
prodding my home with sticks, those naughty galoots.
Intrusion is what I call them,
they do not have heart.
I am but a hermit in the urban lush.
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Literature
The types of personality
We meet all sorts of people daily.
Who we are is a result of reactions toward people and the non-living environment.
It is especially taxing with people because they are temperamental and they affect the environment greater than any object.
We need to identify the type As and type Bs. Type Bs are calm and clear about they wish to accomplish but they do not rush into things or panick. In the aspect of panicking, they are diametrically opposed to type As.
Type As are fast and furious in whatever they do and they pride in their ability to negate style and tact,  in their focus for task completion. They pay little heed to public feedback because they are obstinate and often curt.
Good or bad? We cannot say for certain but it is vital that we identify these traits in our colleagues and acquaintances. We cannot leave it to guesswork because the repercussions would be unthinkable!
If you were to go all-turtle (slow and steady) with Type As, then prepare for some serious tongue-lashing. A
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Literature
Some of us
Some of Us
Some people are imbued with a zest for the arts,  some embrace practicality ; atleast, what they make of it.
Why do we do the things that we do? This is a recurring topic in our daily lives. Why does Whitney Houston sing, why the gulf war, why the soverignty of nations or why the Brexit?
We need to delve deep and sense it! Why of course! You must think that this is superficial, what riff-raff, why talk about such things? There are more pressing matters to set our minds to.
Wrong. What see manifests around us: media, propaganda, politics, these are all matters that evolved from the substrate of creative minds. They have become trite due to repetition.
These law and order of things are not perennial. Unless we act decisively, we will forever be indebted to the past and how are supposed to effectively advance then?
We should increase our scope of sight and understand the flow of things. What does the future hold? That is a mystery. But what we can do, is brace ourselves fo
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Literature
Chasms
Chasms
Lets talk about chasms. There are chasms in people,  some are full of crap,  some are full of stories.
Some are drab while some are just so lovable to have as company.
A preponderance are just so one-dimensional that it hurts.
Even polygons have more sides than these souls.  
We should not remain classless for too long. Never be lame. Life is too short to be lame.
Unless you are an immortal.
Well are you Poseidon?
Are you Loki?
Are you even a half blood like Heracles?
No you are not. So stop blabbering and sinking into a delusion you cannot awaken from.
Live well and be interesting.
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Literature
Look at you
Look at you
Would you look at you, in your little fetal position,  all tucked away in the corner like jack.
Sucking your thumb like a pathetic waif- you get lampooned by meaningless afflictions.
You hear the windows shatter,  you see the shadows scurry,  your head is filled with throes of fear and uncertainty.
The door creaks,  a strange silhouette graces the laminated floor. You cringe, you nearly cry but remnants of your pride comes to the rescue.
The figure moves slowly, it seems to limp ;it makes a horrific sound like that of bones breaking.
Then you see its deformed legs, & kneecaps bending the way that nature did not intend them to be. You see that the being is preternatural.
It is a giant dummy wrapped up in bandage like a mummy but traces of skin are exposed, revealing the putrid flesh of the ghoul.
It is blind. It has only one eye unconcealed by the wrap, it scans the surrounding, sees nothing of interest and trudges away with great idiocy.
You gasp, you th
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Literature
Blazing
Blazing
In my sunflower paradise,  everything looks so clean and nice.
The verdant fields filed with fauna that buzz,  all ready to seek the sun's warmth.
I picture myself with a piccolo in hand,  back against a hardwood tree beetling a hillock, trying to adjust my mind to think about the world of things.
To forget about the politics of the crazy world that we live in.
The barn is filled with thoroughbreds,  all neighing like there is no tomorrow.
But there's a tomorrow,  and a very balmy one indeed.  As I carefully finger the instrument,  a thought creeps up my head,  switching on the lights upstairs,  pulsating neurons laboring to afford introspection.
I hear a distant shout, like that of a mad person in an asylum,  this is precedence to me,  nobody ever intercepts me in my respite,  nobody.
It is the farmhand, with his arms drenched in grease, he must have repaired a tractor or lawnmower---wrench and crowbar hanging loosely
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Literature
Ineptitude
Ineptitude
The vile serpent taunts us evermore with fangs drenched with venom from within its putrid core.
We abandon cause to build and grow,  amidst the trials of tomorrow.
What torment meets us headlong thus,
No pretty excuse from the hour burst.
We adjoin forces to pulverise, the sinister harpies of the skies,
Those winged miscreants with bloodshot eyes will swoop upon our vaunted prize.
Let no dishonorable word creep into our hearts,  that liken us with deep unjust.
We are soldiers all amassed, to excavate our tainted past.
Drink in ecstasy already,
We see that compass is styled and ready,
The gourmet that we chomp all that,  is the mean mockeries to dismay.
We swallow all the words of shrews,
All implications we heartily eschew.
Grave peril comes to those who hurt,
May angels grieve them who were curt.
Chalcedony is the heart of hearts,
Lined with gold against all rebuts.
We ascend unto gilded throne,
Free from guile within our bones.
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Literature
Opus Magnus
Believe in magic,  believe in pundits,  believe that there is infinite limits to your spirit and never look back to the days when you were a hermit.
The rainbow serves as the summit for your dreams and aspirations,  pause and reflect on the common cause!
Watch TED and videos that instruct you on matters,  improve your calculus, madness,  it cackles!
Rain or shine,  let them bite the dust,  the writing is already in the wall that you got them,  you bought them,  you sought them and owned them.
What are we but Ravens in the distance, executing a feeding frenzy on societal bones who died careless.
We caress our loved ones in sweet stupor, broken shields and weapons.
The bewitched continue to play the games of the ventriloquist,  they clamor when told, when berated they fold.
Its jarring what happens in the big Blue world, when you look in from outside like a glistening knight.
So many tragedies,  shattered dreams and hopes.  I as
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Literature
The Gnostas
Imagine a world where nothing is impossible,  the seen is the unseen,  darkness does not exist,  we only have an absence of light,  the same is true for evil that it is only the absence of good.  These hail from THE ONE, which is greater than good,  undetectable, inscrutable,  immeasurable.  
The early preachers dare blame Simon Magus for the teachings of gnostic truth!  What audacity,  it is no invention of a charismatic trickster,  it is no heresy!  How impudent for humanity to discredit his birthright for the fount of wisdom by attributing it to the work of a fatuous man who wanted to purchase the power of the Holy Ghost!
We have set ourselves backwards because the religious bodies repressed what they could not contain,  which is the spirit realm, which is the ONE with such immensity that he emanated us along with agape to feel , "nous" to accept knowledge and lesser emanations such as Ainos (praise) and ageratos (the
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Literature
Union
Union
I see among me, a station men,
All donned in blue, i'm within them.
The role call swerves in to break the silence,
A bee-line of men in formation.
We hear our orders, we fulfill duties,
Away from our women,  away from babies.
Some see it as a bane, some see it as a boon,
One thing holds true,
We are not maroon.
The uniformity makes us faceless,
In the ocean that overtakes us.
We do this not out of conviction
But alas, to prevent indiction.
Some nations pride defense,  
Some pride war,
But the people,  we are the ones who fight them all.
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The Elemental Part 4

The winds were threshing about, sands swirling in eddies that attempted to swallow everything that it came into contact with.
The Artificer was hovering in his full splendour, draped in a tan cloak with a hood concealing his wizened features. The creator
of the Earth had his branch-like arms crossed as he stared down at his fairy captive.

Crysalla was shuddering and went speechless in awe. The Artificer had the inherent effect of exacting reverence from his creations, so it
came to him as an embarrassing surprise when Zion executed her escapade.

''Why did you revolt against me puny girl?''

The Artificer asked in a thunderous voice that roiled the sand. The Artificer removed his hood, he was still in midair, and focused a pair
of breaming golden eyes at the fairy. In a flourish of his massive palm, the beetles closed in on Crysalla and she trembled even more.
The false God then extended his palm to stop the bugs in their track.

''I asked you a rudimentary question, you cur. I shall not repeat after this, Why did you revolt against me?''

Crysalla mustered all of the will in her small body but it all but vanished before she could breathe a word, The Artificer was too imposing of
a figure and she was caught unprepared for this confrontation. If it had been an ordinary interlocutor, Crysalla might have replied without
effort or even charm the person with her alluring beauty but this was a being, inscrutable as they came.

''So be it, the desert shall be your grave, rest well.''

The Artificer replaced his hood, crushed his hands together and levitated into the heavens. The deadly beetles began to swarm onto Crysalla and she forced her weak wings to take her away from certain death. They were weak and could barely flap but she lifted herself off the scorching ground with her tiny feet with some struggle. To the horror of the fairy, the beetles began to reveal a hidden layer under their carapace, it flickered once, twice and wings appeared, these cretins could fly too!

The giant beetles, about five of them, headed straight for the fairy, who lifted herself at the knick of time, causing two of the beetles to collide,
the pincers were so sharp that they cut each other cleanly into halves.

The remaining three beetles swooped toward Crysalla but she swerved past their advances, she was also careful to not fly too high toward the sweltering heat of the sun. Crysalla conjured the vestige of her fairy dust and blew it at the direction of one beetle, immediately causing the bug to feel groggy and collapse onto the ground.  

While Crysalla was dealing with the beetle, another had managed to rip through her lower wing, it badly hurt her but she stayed in air. Specks of blood were splayed across the tattered wing as the aggressive beetle tore at the injured spot. Another beetle nipped at the pony tail of the young fairy, severing it within an inch from her head.

Crysalla thought to herself that this was to be her tragic end: betrayed, beaten and broken. She would lie in the desert and become a pathetic nameless cadaver, her beauty will be forgotten and nobody will tell stories of her worth listening. She would have been another passing face in the wheel of time. She wondered what the traitorous fairies would think of her and how they would laugh and rejoice at her sordid end.

At that thought, a hidden power was unlocked in meek Crysalla, she instantly regenerated her torn wing and replenished the fairy dust within her small torso. An ebullient rage overcame the fairy, her actions rendered an automated display. Savagely, Crysalla grabbed a beetle about five times her own size and absorbed its life essence. The creature shook at her uncanny touch and began to wither, the cellulose wall of the animal degrading until it turned into a husk devoid of moisture, it fended off the fairy with its pincers but Crysalla was too agile and mighty, it finally cracked and crumbled like a biscuit from the dryness.

Crysalla was disconcerted at her new powers but she was also reaping tremendous satisfaction from it. She was no longer a frail victim, she was now capable of administering her wrath and many were guilty.

''What is happening to me?'' She thought, the vestige of her mind shaken and disintegrating as she fought the vile bugs.

She grabbed another beetle and sucked its essence with her vampiric touch, it too crumbled into fine particles once she was done with it.
Each time Crysalla devoured a soul, she felt sick at the core of her gut but a dark part of her spirit was placated and the more she fed, the more that part seemed to overtake her conscience.

The last beetle, semi-sentient as it was, witnessed the gruesome demise of its team mates and absconded in jittery motion with its six scrawny legs upon the sand. Crysalla proceeded to do something unthinkable.

''It is defenceless and escaping for dear life, leave it alone!''

''Kill it as it would have killed you!''

''No! the battle is over, you have supremacy over the bugs!''

''Never leave a survivor to tell the tale of your victory, let the bodies do that!''

''I cannot.''

''You must.''

''I will.''


Crysalla waged an internal conflict in her head, she was going berserk and the dark side won. The fair complexion of the fairy was now
beginning to contort, some veins were bulging at the side of her head. She glared at the retreating beetle and sprung like a viper in ambush,
grabbing the beetle and extracting the legs of the animal from its body one by one as it recoiled in pain. The animal was left with only its abdomen and head as it miserably squirmed.

Crysalla smiled as she savoured the torture of the injured insect. She whizzed past the animal and back again, admiring her handiwork and with one final gesture of malice, she separated the head from its torso and wore it like a prized outfit. She drank the brain matter of the beetle until it was hollowed out and she could see through the eye sockets of the dead animal.

The fairy looked disturbingly odd with a gigantic head of an insect perched over her skull. Crysalla never experienced such joy in her young life
as she merrily danced in the air as if she was in a macabre masquerade. She was getting used to her new personality.

At that instance, the sky tore asunder and the Artificer reappeared in his unearthly glow. He landed beside the maniacal fairy and laughed like a proud parent.

''Your transformation is complete. You have passed the test. Next time, you will not be playing with the entrails of bugs. Skin-wearer.''
The Elementals Part 3

In the meantime, humanity was springing up within the continents, they travelled from point to point, domesticating other animals to serve their will and acquired knowledge on skills like language and agriculture with the intellect of their advanced brains.

The Artificer was still immensely upset at the fairies who he vilified as the defilers of his paradise. The self-proclaimed “God” became wary of every little detail within his existence as the betrayal of the fairies had dealt a crushing blow to his weak continence.

In order to exact control over the whereabouts of his newly appointed spy, Numinous-the-fairy, the Artificer crafted a small platoon of shadow-melding hunters to tail him- in other words, the veritable spy was being espied. This was clearly the behaviour of a paranoid “God”.

It was however unfortunate, due to the flagrant oversight of the Artificer that the spies of the spy were mostly a bunch of lazy, self-serving vermin and often delayed their movements for personal gain.

The counterspies comprised four horsemen: Pain, Regret, Suffering and Forgiveness. Together, they set out on their phantasmagoric steeds in search of Zion and her fairies. Unfortunately, every drinking hole would see the men in drunken stupor for days, except for forgiveness, who was the wisest and most logical of the four. It is noted that the horsemen acquired currency through robbery and looting, aside from Forgiveness, who earned his gold from selling wooden charms that he carved from the trees of the land.

Zion and her band of fairies had now traveled to the distant lands of sand and heat. The only plants within sight were towering cacti, which stood stoically like unfeeling sentinels of the arid plains watching living bodies desiccate as if they derived delight from such morbidity.

Zion was always the nimblest of thought. Through pure foresight, she had selected an assistant to manage the group of fairies alongside her as she understood that leadership was no solitary task and she required periodic breaks to replenish her own vitality for the journey ahead.

The second-in-command was a pretty doll-like fairy named Crysalla, she was so mesmerisingly beautiful that the flowers of the world seemed to salute her as she passed them by and many garrulous tavern masters spread word of her unmatched looks.

Crysalla may have been the epitome of beauty but she was not as intelligent as Zion. In fact, her looks were somewhat of a liability as jealousy started to erupt among the fairies and some members began to doubt the judgments and legitimacy in the directions of Zion.

The fairy chiefly embittered by the rise of Crysalla was a homely-looking individual named Gloria, who was highly sensitive and envious. Gloria defied the orders of Crysalla as much as she could but respected the decisions of Zion.

One afternoon, Zion commanded Crysalla to scout toward the inner Gobi desert as the leylines were stronger in the region and deemed it a perfect zone to set up forward camp since fairy dust regenerated based on the potency of leylines. Zion instructed Chrysalla to choose a contingent of fairies to accompany her for the expedition as the roads were perilous to the enemies of the Artificer. Zion was to remain at the main camp with the weaker fairies so as to protect them until the forward camp was established.

To the dismay of Chrysalla, there were no volunteers and Zion was left with no other choice but to personally assemble the convoy; her decision was final.

The chosen fairies were upset and disingenuous with their compliance. So Chrysalla led her unwilling guards to a suitable camp location at the heart of the Gobi desert, a three day trek from the camp of Zion.

The guards of Chrysalla lied that they were going to seek cacti for water supply and informed her to stay put at the campsite. Unbeknownst to the gullible fairy beauty, she was about to be abandoned by her party as they left her to die in the middle of the wasteland.

The artful fairies deserted the party of Zion and headed toward the mountains of the northern borders to create their very own settlement.

As Chrysalla waited foolishly for hours without an ally in sight, she slowly began to worry and thought the worst of the situation; she was accurate in her guess.

Suddenly, the dunes around Chrysalla quaked and a howling sandstorm was seen in the horizon, looming over the empty terrain. Nightfall was fast approaching and the temperature was dipping as the winds grew merciless.

The ground began to collapse pit after pit and gigantic beetles emerged from these weird holes. The beetles were as big as foxes and they had pincers that could slice wood.

Chrysalla shrieked in fear at the appearance of the intruders that had surrounded her. As Chrysalla trembled in trepidation, a familiar voice descended from the cloudless sky.

“Finally, I have caught one of the winged scamps.”

It was the Artificer, he had cornered Chrysalla and he grinned with nihilistic glee at his clever setup.
The Elementals Part 2

Zion and her band of fairies flew miles on end, they would halt for sustenance at rivers and lakes whenever the group felt exhausted. In their little heads, the main mission was to outrun the clutches of the artificer and his mindless enforcers so they needed the strength.

The artificer possessed no qualms about hunting the runaways and punishing them dearly. His first act was to summon the clouds to do his bidding. They were to direct lightning strikes upon any creature resembling the fairies. The leader of the clouds, Numinous, abetted with satisfaction as he was a pompous being who wanted nothing more than to destroy anything he considered inferior to the clouds, including mankind.

A preternatural storm brewed and the landscape turned from a vibrant green to a wasteland of shadowy doom, concealed by foreboding thunderclouds.

Numinous and his favoured generals, Vapore and Bolt, scoured the lands menacingly and many butterflies and hummingbirds were executed in their wake. However, the itinerant fairies were still nowhere to be found and the Artificer grew restlessly wrathful at the futility of his cloud campaign.

In a moment of fury, the Artificer spurned bolt and Vapore into the sky and they were left there to spend the rest of eternity, never again to experience the beauties of land. The generals began to weep at their torment and this was to became the first instance of rain.

This was counterproductive as the Artificer wanted to monopolise the supply of water for all of the creatures in his realm but now, the generals dispensed libations each time they wept and these nourished the lands.

From the rainfall, lands grew fertile and fruit trees and crops began to sprout, yet again, fulfilling another commodity that the Artificer had attempted to control.

The Artificer attempted to devise a new need that he could cast upon his creations so that they shall once again depend upon his greatness and magnanimity for survival. However, the Blind eternities noticed the drunken abuse of his power and ignored all pleas to recharge his Creative energies. The Artificer was furious as he cursed the blind eternities but they never retaliated, just beetled over him in despair at the wretchedness of such an offspring.

As a last ditch attempt to nab the refugee fairies, Numinous was disguised as a fairy folk by the Artificer and was dispatched to travel far and wide so as to infiltrate the fellowship of Zion.

Numinous was a colossal warrior with a chitinous body armour of near metallic consistency. It was difficult to deign to the request of the Artificer to sacrifice his proud shell in place of the dwarfish frail sac belonging to a fairy but he remembered the sad plight of his generals and did all within his power to avoid the same fate.

So with an unparalleled burst of pain, the sinews and ligaments of the proud cloud cackled, cracked and shrank. He was now transformed into a male fairy, first of its kind.

Numinous swooped around to explore his newfound senses but he was no ordinary fairy, he had bloodshot eyes and fed not upon buttercup nectar, the very first wasp he saw, he lashed his forked tongue out and grabbed the unfortunate bug, then crushed it with his razor sharp teeth.
The Elementals

From the Blind Eternities, there was an artificer who sat alone on his gilded throne within the stunning sky. He looked around him and eventually felt bored of his loneliness. He began to draw the energies from the Blind Eternities to create small delicate beings that came to be known as pixies.

The pixies would flutter their exiguous wings in a stream of blue and entertained the Artificer in his newly-formed throne room, since he felt that he deserved more than a measly chair. However, when the artificer grew sick of his creation, he would place the pixies inside an enormous cage. The pixies were very sad and one day, the leader among them, the keenest of mind and brightest of fairy glow, Zion, decided to stage a revolt.

As the centuries passed, the Artificer created more products from the great eye in his mind. Since, he was frequently bored and had a capricious personality, he would keep himself constantly pleased lest he lost his calm and destroyed everything in rage.

He created a vastness above, clouds that looked comforting but yet, remain inaccessible to the underlings on ground. He wanted the clouds to represent the distance his organisms had to keep from him: he was a creative genius but he was so accustomed to loneliness that he did not wish for an intimate relationship with his creations, it scared him.

He formed mountains, rivers, cliffs, rivulets, tributaries, gorges, archipelagos, gulfs, islets and so on. The Artificer was so obsessed with the art of creation that he soon neglected the cage of pixies in the deepest part of his throne room.

Zion and the rest of the fairies discussed the structural integrity of the cage and planned to use the magical prowess of their fairy powder to corrode the grills of the cage and set themselves free from the dreadful prison.

The cage was guarded by an ugly dog with six eyes named Zargos. The foul creature would snap at anything within the range of its snout. The Artificer was bitten countless times but he could never be hurt by the creatures of his doing, such was the way of the Blind Eternities.

The Artificer would spend time soaking his feet in his rivers and smiled as the tiny fish nibbled at his dead skin, he would teleport to the zenith of his most impressive mountains and admire the view from above. Zion led her fellow fairies to freedom while the Artificer was distracted by his worldly pleasures.

So together, the fairies united their fairy powders to collapse the lock of the cage and liberated themselves. Zargos raged at the impudence of his prisoners but mostly, he just raged because it was all he knew.

The fairies released a potent wave of fairy dust unto the beast, thinking that he too would dissolve like the bars of their prison but instead, the dog whimpered, slumped and began to fall asleep. At the settlement of their threat, the fairies swooshed through the  grand halls of the enormous throne room and out of the window.

The Artificer felt a sense of discomfort at that instance as he had always kept a watchful bond of his creations due to sheer paranoia that they would attempt to renege someday. He saw the fairies in the eye of his mind and saw the devious grins on their little faces as they triumphed over his order.

The Artificer was enraged, he lifted his feet from the river, levitated and dried the water up. The poor fish were struggling on dry land but he watched them die because he felt nothing for their miserable existences just as how he no longer cared for the fairies.

He uttered a curse that would afflict his organisms: that they would depend on food, water and air for survival or face death and these commodities would be monopolized by the greatness of his will. He thought that this would forge a perpetual servitude from his creations and dissuade any nuances of future rebellions.

They were more stubborn than he had imagined, quite like himself...


End of Part 1
Petrichor

The smell of rain is inhaled within my body,
a calmness overcomes my deepest agonies.
The chilling wind accompanying the cooling night,
expels my body of any fright.

Awash with a keen sense of purpose,
I am no longer imprisoned within the curse.
My mind has begun to take on a life of its own,
failure was merely on loan.

I am inspired to conjure my strongest weapon,
my mind!
I am of honour to incline.

The suffering of yesterday has ended,
tomorrow will be positively intended.
Petrichor
The rain has washed me of the mulch that bothered me,
it can save anybody who believes.
We often lose our temper and start pointing fingers when what we should do is to collaborate
with our neighbours.

May this poem paint a trace of what I mean to share with the world!
Loading...
What is the difference between a raven and a writing desk?
That was a question that continuously popped up during Tim Burton's rendition of Alice in Wonderland.

Johnny Depp's mad hatter constantly pondered over the solution to the odd conundrum.

So what indeed is the difference? That is a good question. Scientifically, we are all non-existent, just formations caused by the coagulation of particles distanced apart and kept intact. Form itself is subjective. When somebody sees the statue of Liberty, what indeed greets their mind? Is it an edifice of beauty and splendor? Is it an avatar of freedom? Or is it just a gigantic inanimate woman that occupies way too much of an island?

What is the difference between a raven and a writing desk? Indeed, what is the difference between a chopstick and a cow? Why stop there? What is the difference between a book and a tunnel?
Only when we begin to ask lots of questions, do we finally learn the art of knowledge.

We cannot decipher any of the greatest mysteries of our splendid world but certainly we can try to make sense of our lives. To pinpoint the direction that we are most familiar and comfortable with. The mad hatter may appear outwardly ludicrous but internally, he may be at peace with his own thinking self.

Most of us are bogged down by the terrible rapidity of life, of the need for survival and acceptance from a cold and harsh society living by rigid rules but ultimately, if we want to enjoy every single second of our waking lives, all we need to do is to be true to ourselves and everything shall take flight. We will get a panoramic view of choices that will benefit not just ourselves but also those around us.

What is the difference between a raven and a writing desk? It is either something or nothing, what do you see?

deviantID

CupidKiller
Laurenzo
Singapore
I'm the cupidkiller, seize your moments people, love, romance all that magic, its not a fairytale..just know what you're doing and you'll watch the amazing effects unfold.

Cupid is just a short fart who thinks he knows best, well, I shot him down, so go get the right one for yourselves, you got the power now!

Personal Quote: You don't need an angelic midget for love, you need you and the special one
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:iconrkk414:
rkk414 Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2013  Student General Artist
Hey!  I finished drawing the dragon with the humanoid head, but I'm lost on the background.  At the moment, it's transparent and I think it looks okay like that, but it would be better with a background.  Should I show you the finished one and we can decide on a background together?  Or do you have some ideas for backgrounds?  Or should I just do abstract whatever?  (Just a warning, I'm not very good at backgrounds)
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:iconcupidkiller:
CupidKiller Featured By Owner Aug 21, 2013
Sorry for the late reply, yes yes, please do show me the finished product so we could work on the final result together. Looking forward to your reply! So sorry, I have been inactive on Deviantart!

But I am surelyl back now!
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:iconrkk414:
rkk414 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2013  Student General Artist
Ok, I've done the guidelines and the head (but no coloring or shading, just the outline.) This look okay so far? [link]
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:iconcupidkiller:
CupidKiller Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2013
I am loving so far, especially the impassive facial expression.
Keep up the excellent work and enjoy your vacation to the fullest :)
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:iconrkk414:
rkk414 Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2013  Student General Artist
Or, after seeing my horrid attempts to portray your idea, would you rather stick with something along these lines?
deviantART muro drawing Comment Drawing
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:iconrkk414:
rkk414 Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2013  Student General Artist
Or more of something like this?
deviantART muro drawing Comment Drawing
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:iconcupidkiller:
CupidKiller Featured By Owner Jun 17, 2013
No way, it is not bad at all, I love it!

Alright let us stick to this humanoid face and bond it with the dragon body that you drew below.

You are talented, I now know that you're totally up for the job :)
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:iconrkk414:
rkk414 Featured By Owner Jun 17, 2013  Student General Artist
So, you'd like a profile view young woman's face [and hair,] and a dragon body that goes down to about shoulder/elbow length?

I'll try my best :)!
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:iconcupidkiller:
CupidKiller Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2013
I know you're totally capable of it :) Yes, your description of the piece is exactly what I wanted.
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:iconrkk414:
rkk414 Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2013  Student General Artist
Alright, is this generally what you are looking for?
deviantART muro drawing Comment Drawing
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