|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Song Of The DamnedI come from Hell tonight
I won't be going back alone
You owe a heavy debt
It's time to pay
Your prayers will do no good
Your God brings you no hope
You cannot pay your debt with empty promises
When empty promises are your sin
You walked away
You made an innocent man pay
For sins you committed
You promised him freedom
You gave him doom
You left him for dead
His corpse still hangs
His spirit shall soon be free
For all these years
You made a deal
It's time to hold up your end of the bargain
I remember your bark
And the balls of fur you shed
The way you ran around the house in circles
And the way your paw felt in my hand
You were some of the best seven years of my life
You are in a box now
I remember the last day
I told you I'd dedicate my first book to you
I'll write you a book instead
So everyone can know
How weird and wonderful you were
I love you
I always did
I always will
You were seven when you died
A very ex-friend told me
You would have only lived
Maybe five more years
I'd gladly take five more minutes with you
I still have the sock monkey I gave you
The one you were too sick to play with
The one you'll never play with
Wherever you are
You have lots of toys
To keep you company until we meet again
It won't come true
I wish for you
I wish to hold you again
Feel your fur
Hear your bark
Watch you play
I'll never get my wish
So screw it
I could have a thousand dogs
I'd never have another you
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More