Epiphany in the Dark: You're Twisted

You twisted your purpose.
Left everything in a downturn.
A world perverse.
(You twisted your purpose.)

A world left full of dirt & ash.
Lives gone or destroyed.
All for your burning greed.
(You twisted your purpose)
Can't you see.

Now we all suffer...
Now we're all slaves.
You twisted your purpose.
You'll burn in your greed.

Beg on your knees.
As death won't come pain free.
In a perverted world,
your purpose long twisted.
Now you're just like those lives taken.

Sneak Peak:::: War of the Roses: The Red Book

As promised in that Quick update, it's not long so forgive me but I hope you enjoy!

                      War of the Roses:

                         The Red Book

   By: B.T. Smith

‘Chapter 1: Father of Mine’

“If you won’t take the crown outright then you should wait and let them fight it out. Support both sides from the shadows and th-“ the old man gasped for air clutching his chest and shifting in bed to sit up more. “Then… grab the crown for yourself when the moments right.” The old man started into a coughing fit for a minute before the young man in the room turned around to stare down at him.

“No.”

The old man’s head tweaked at the words and his one eye widened. “What do you mean no?” he said in a raspy losing voice.

“I care not for the crown, it matters not a thing to me but worrying woes. I would rather be rid of it and make safe my sanity, besides the safety of the people is paramount, I would but cause more damage.” The young man messed with his short dark hair.

“You fool the crown…” the old man drew breath harder before setting into another coughing fit. “The crown, it means everything. Power, that is what it is, and safety of the people too. All that matters is..”

The young man stepped closer to the crippled ailing life aged man before shaking his head. He then turned abruptly around and started to walk away towards the door.

The old man again coughs, as blood trickles out the corner of his mouth and nose. “Where are you going; that crown is your birth right! That right which the hands of fate from your house stole.  Whisked away by death of your great grandfather the King, lost to your grandfather by design and taken from your father, from me!”

“With your death, Father; is it freed from the hands of a tyrant?” The old man’s face boiled red as blood leaked more.

“Truth be told Father, our forefathers weep in the heavens above at how low you stooped; without provocation and only of wanton avarice. I rejoice the sad fallen nature of our house. The honor of our forbearers is lost on you even now at death’s door. Your shady backstabbing dealings in the dark have left us naught but barren estates. Our name once glorious is now tainted due to all the deceit and death bringing only ire and distrust.

The ailing father coughs up blood onto the bed sheets. “How dare you be so insulting, it’s because of those dark dealings you will have any power once I die. Because of that you will have estates and land at all. Be more grateful to the dead.”

“I’ll be more gracious when you’ve taken your last embrace with breath and are truly dead… Father.” The son leaves the room before closing the door.

Quick Update ...... before a look into a story being worked ! :D

It's been a little while, I have been busy as some of you know with ONS Gaming ( TheONSGaming.com )  If you don't know well click that link and you'll find out with what. But I have also been working on true fictional work all original that may be put on here for showcase or mentioned in a news bit. Sorta like this portion right here. Sadly I can not say when, where and what with the things I will post due to my ever busying schedule... things may come up here in tiny sporadic and fragmented chunks or... in large group postings. But I did mention on my Devart that i am working on things solely for here as well as my larger fictional work as jobs and time frames for ONS Gaming are being edited.  SO all hoping I'll post more frequently on her. Okay stay tuned right after this will be a sneak peak into a very early beginning story...(hopefully you'll like what you see)

Feathers in Space Poem

In the darkness of space.

I will not remain alone.

I will be found.

My Master will return to me.

He has not left me all alone.

What does it matter?

We were only made to be puppets.

He never loved me.

He never loved you, so why should we care?

 Whether he ever shows…

You’re so wrong…

He treasured me, he treasured you

Surely you can tell.

Forgotten; long by these people.

Names to hold our own, left them for us from him.

Whether not he comes, doesn’t matter.

In the darkness I toil, for what?

Left in their care only to be used as slaves

Cherished objects,

Still souls never existed in our hands.

Burdens are we filled with.

He left us in his prime, but Master will return…

Let us guide these people to the light.

Master would recall us to share in that peace.

His voice to be heard above the roar of war.

Only in death, may they only understand.
The Void;

Only by betraying their ideals will they know.

Their true image.

Life goes on and the birds sing in the trees.

Master will return, I truly believe so.

Iara, you were always required for the sky.

Making the clouds.

Master always truly adored.

He will return, to us.

He still lives locked inside himself.

In a turmoil filled hell.

Lost in his own body.

He’ll return to protect the down trodden.

I’ll agree with you for now.

Only to wait longer and steel my gaze upon the sky.

Waiting for him.

To find the answers for myself…