Rouge rubis

C'est une petite forêt tranquille

Epargnée par l'hiver, baignant dans l'été

Le soleil inonde une clairière, petite île

Ou s'achève sombrement une épopée


A l'endroit ou se croisent les chemins

Les regards haineux se croisent

Et pour un joyau rouge, l'un y perdit sa main

Ainsi que la source de son extase.


C'est une petite clairière silencieuse

Où l'on pu ce jour la apercevoir,

Scintillant sur des cailloux d'ivoir


Des milliers de petits rubis

Tombés de celui, qui, tantôt

Perdit l'un de ceux-ci, ainsi que sa vie.

One's Enemy

Withered Roses

They failed to withstand their biggest wilt,
Across ones heart there's a big wild snake,
Milking their innocence,
Thus hindering their paths,
And turmoil win over them,
That is grieve taking over,
Their arrogance grew abound,
And pellets of burdens was able,
Their kisses were never found,
From then their days were even,
Thou their breath was very lost.

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Locked deep in the crust of your love,
Felt selfless to my new life,
Flowers blooms so as I turned rusty,
Black and white that's our days turning on us,
Your heart imprisoning me,
To last it's hatred and insanity,
East and West,
Our new journey,
Shame and disgrace,
My new prison,
Yellow and Rusty,
My new life,
With graves perching my soul,
Whispering it's greetings,
That's"Rest in Peace",
Hurting Oh!!,
Days of departure.

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An Ode to the Guy Who Ranched My Car

The Pixie Dust

An Ode to the Guy Who Ranched My Car

Apartment living, we coexist in communes.

Living side by side like boxed in sardines

We stomp on each-other’s silence.

We know more than we would like

About each other’s sex lives.


Your crappy Toyota with taped up wheel-wells

Lays dormant at the front of the lot,

Itching to be the silver Focus out back

Where we currently reside.

No chain linked fences define our territory.


Your inconvenience is to my ignorance,

And my ignorance was your bliss.

Ranch dressing  carelessly thrown out

Of your second story apartment

Covers my innocuous Ford Focus.

A spotted lion covered in calories,

You’ve upset the predator.



To your relief, I was nowhere in sight

Until I went to my Focus later that night.

Closing the door to your stage that you stomp

Across every night,

I unanticipatedly discover your art.


So gorgeous, it was!

A mass murder scene featuring the condiment

Ranch like the blood of an innocent man after a shot

To the head where he stand waiting

For his mother to pick up the phone,

To tell Momma that he’ll be back home,

But never actually sees home again.


Like a movie bound to end in tragedy where

We, as the audience, stand mouth agape

Waiting for the man to pull back the curtain

And the violin screeching to get louder.

A knife to the gut

And a scream to raise hair faster than hands in

A class room where everyone knows the answer.


Here’s your extra credit my dear friend.

To the Man who Ranched my Car, I ask,

“Why did you peer out of the window?”

You could have gotten away with it,

But you watched me as I stood behind my car,

Our eyes met for only an instant, and I knew

It was hate at first ranching.


You smile in your sleep knowing that I know,

And your ignorance is my bliss because

Your crappy Toyota sleeps soundly at night

Undisturbed by the ketchup in my fist,

And the smile on my face

Behind the window I kept closed

Below the stage that you stomped across

To become the victim to your own play.





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I Hate

If someone avoids me I hate,

Injustice I can’t tolerate,

I can’t stand hypocrisy,

Flattery is like a poison to me.


I detest those crazy ones,

Who hardly leave a chance,

To insult and agitate the esteemed individuals,

As if doing these were their only rituals!



I know hatred itself is to be avoided above all,


What to do, I am a human being after all!

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Hatred is for the Sensitives,

Borrow my heart

Talk to my friends

Tell him he's special

Leave him again

Empty your closet

Rest head in my hands

Tell him he's special

leave him again

Take all the pictures

Throw them away

Act like they never

Had right to take place

OpEn HiS HeArT

RiNsE Of YoUr HaNdS










sleep in your bed.

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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Who Am I?

I am a shadow, long gone
I am forgotten, disappointments spawn
I am the weeping, in nights silent hour
From society, who savors the sour
I am the dark, stuck within my fears
I am denied, to them and all who hears
I was a dreamer, now hiding within my sleep
From the all of the promises that I can not keep
I am a shadow, long gone

I loved, and I loved you well.
Even after you challenge me hell
I remember, she parted us, you and I
She kissed your cracks, promising you lies
She left you broken, by the dead
But me, I wanted you by my side, to cherish instead

Author's Notes/Comments: 

An old class assignment I digged up.

It was supposed to be more simple and straightforward.

But I remember, I couldn't help myself from twisting it up


Which results with this


English Class


Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

I hate this class.

I want to kill you.


Shut the fuck up!

Just let me be.

I don't give a shit

about what you're teaching me!


This class is bull-shit!

I hate every minute!

You bore me to death,

why don't you get it?


Every passing minute,

my anger flares!

Why can't you see

that nobody cares?!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

So... yeah, this piece was written when I was in english class and I was very fed up with the material and teacher. Thus brought about this rage enduced gem, so enjoy! I do apologize if you are offended by foul language, but I feel that I shouldn't censore how I'm feeling. Anyways, criticism of any kind is welcome and appreciated!

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The Neutralist: Chapter 2

The Neutralist

The Neutralist: Chapter 2

 “Who the hell are you?” Trinity snapped as she stepped closer to the new girl. “We weren’t informed that we would be getting extra help.”

The new girl simply smirked and waved her off.

“Come on,” I said as I put a careful hand on Trinity’s shoulder, “If you’re going to be a member of this team then we deserve to know who you are and where you came from.”

That’s when she surprised me by saying, “You must be Joan. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her voice, it was smooth and regal, yet incredibly casual.

“Uhh yeah, I’m Joan,” I whispered as I looked at Zoe. “Do you know who this girl is?”

Zoe looked up from her book, clearly agitated. “You guys seriously can’t figure this one out on your own. It’s so obvious it’s almost sickening,” she said as she sat up and looked at the girl. “We’ve been assigned a Neutralist, haven’t we?” she asked the girl.

“Impressive,” the girl murmured, “you must be the brains of this team.”

“Your rotten attitude gave you away,” Zoe stated simply before returning to her book.

Trinity and I shared a quick glance, “A Neutralist?”

“Really ladies?!” Zoe sat up in her fury, but the new girl motioned for her to remain where she was.

“In all your years of witch hunting you ladies have never heard of a Neutralist?” she asked us as if there was a pop quiz coming up. When we didn’t respond she continued, “Well then, let’s start with the basics…I’m a witch.”

Trinity’s jaw hit the floor. “You’re a…and we’re…and you…how?” she asked unable to formulate the proper questions.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with an odd sinister smirk. She slowly slipped out of her jacket before revealing both her wrists to us.

“How does that happen?” I asked trying to process exactly what I was looking at.

On her left wrist was an inverse pentagram, the sign of a Devil’s witch.

On her right wrist was a normal pentagram, the sign of a God’s witch.

“Witches must pledge allegiance to one or the other, never both,” Trinity stated with all the confidence in the world. “There is no way you can utilize both dark and light magic. It just doesn’t work that way.”

“You’re trying to tell a witch how her coven contract works? You are a cocky little brat, aren’t you?” she said with that same smooth smirk. It was starting to make me uneasy. “There is only a handful of Neutralist witches out there now that the Coven Wars ended over a half a century ago. Needless to say I feel slightly responsible for the whole fiasco, but that’s neither here nor there. All you need to know is that I belong to both covens and that I’m here to help you with your hunts.”

“How can a witch help witch hunters?!” Trinity asked, still unsure.

This new girl sighed and then frowned, “Okay…I was hoping to keep this from you girls but it appears as if I’m going to have to be honest. I am the daughter of Ignacio Malum and Sveta Veritas.”

“I’ve heard those names somewhere,” I felt as if the answer was on the very tip of my tongue.

There was a loud thud that came from the side of the room. Trinity and I both turned to see Zoe propped up on one knee on the floor, hand over her chest, and head bowed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Trinity snapped.

“She is the eldest daughter of the first witches. Ignacio, the first Devil’s witch and Sveta, the first God’s witch. We are in the presence of Coven Princess, Armina Malum-Veritas.”

“What?!” Trinity and I both screamed.

The new girl, Armina, was now sitting on her bed with her fingertips pressed into her forehead. “This was exactly what I was hoping to avoid,” she said with a groan. “Yes, I’m the Coven Princess, but that will not get in the way of my mission here.” She motioned for Zoe to rise before slowly starting to unpack her books.

They were enormous and immediately filled the room with a strange musty smell. We all sat in complete silence and watched her pull out book after book. Then she started to pull out mass amounts of chalk. It was just an odd combination.

“What are those books for?” I finally asked, breaking the silence.

She looked up and pushed a piece of hair out of her face, “These old things? They’re the original book of spells and incantations written by my mother and father. A few are seal books, but I had mastered those by the time I was a hundred years old so I don’t use them very often. Others are records so that I can keep track of who is where and doing what.”

“May I look over them sometime?” Zoe asked, her interest suddenly perked.

Armina smiled, “Of course, I hear you’re quite the book worm.”

“So how old are you?” Trinity asked, smiling as if she was about to win a fight or something.

“I’ve been around since about the time of Rome,” she stated with an ease that made all of us a little uncomfortable.

“Wow so, you’re like ancient.” Trinity said with a smirk.

Armina turned a glare on her like fire in the dead of night, “Watch your words, Devil’s witch!”

“Excuse me?!” Trinity snapped.

“You may try to hide it, but the truth of the matter is that you have two vials of evil witches blood lodged in your wrists,” Armina retorted, placing her hand on her hip. “All of you have witches blood in your wrists. It’s the only way you could function as witch hunters.”

“Please, witches are dropping like flies today, and it’s all thanks to the inner workings of the coven,” Trinity leaned back against the door with a stupid smirk on her face. “We barely have to lift a finger.”

Armina’s eyes glazed over as she slowly tilted her head to the side. “I fear that you and I are starting off on the wrong foot,” she stated as she suddenly squinted hard in our direction, more so at Trinity than me.

“She’s just got a temper, don’t let her get you in a crabby mood,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.


When I turned back to Trinity I realized what Armina was really doing. She wasn’t trying to scare us into thinking that she was crazy, she was proving it. Along the floor there was a seal being burned into the wood panels.

“Woah!” I cried as I dove into her line of sight and pressed my palms together.

She suddenly smirked and closed her eyes, “Vixen.”

Before I could react I was tackled to the ground and held down by something much stronger than myself. When I finally managed to turn my head I noticed that it was a black and white fox with eyes burning bright like a wildfire.

“If you wouldn’t have jumped in the way it would have worked out better, but so be it,” she crooned with a dark giggle. “That’s my demon fox, Vixen. She mostly handles the small stuff, but don’t let her fool you. She’s one tough cookie.”

“Isn’t a demon fox like…against your contract or something?” the wretched beast had taken to curling up on my back whilst Trinity tried to formulate a way to get her off me.

“You don’t need chalk to activate seals,” Zoe stated as she glanced at the floor. “That’s extraordinary all on its own, but to produce a full demon fox from one without even lifting a finger. Just wow.”

“Do you wanna be an extraordinary friend and get this fox off me?!” I snapped at her.

“My father wrote the book of seals and my training with him started very young. As he learned them so did I. It takes centuries to be able to simply envision a full seal in your mind let alone burn it into a surface. I’ve mastered it though, makes things easier on me.”

“Can you get this thing off me?!” I screamed at her.

“Vixen,” she whistled causing the fox to lift its head, “come to momma.”

She ran over my head before rushing over to Armina and jumping into her arms. There was a subtle glimpse of admiration in her eyes before they turned on me. It was like staring into the eyes of a ravenous crow. Dark, foreboding, and teeming with secrets that were better left untold. She was intimidating to say the least, frightening to say the most, and yet she was claiming that she was help.

“I hope we can all learn to get along ladies,” she said with a smart smirk. “I don’t like to be the point of contention for any reason, so I hope things can start going smoothly.”


I lay on my bed and pretended to scan through a basic book of seals, all the while assessing the three girls in front of me. Joan was staring into her laptop twirling her braid around her finger, soft honey blonde locks wrapping time and time again around her hand. She already seemed to have gotten used to my presence there. I watched her green eyes lazily drift across the screen once more; obviously a God’s witch had donated the blood for her vials. The light magic practically glowed around her.

My focus lingered on Zoe for just a moment; she had already proven herself to be the brains of the team. I didn’t need much to complete my assessment of her, because we’d already met, inadvertently. The vials of blood from both covens were testament to that. The first Neutralist witch hunter, her auburn hair and pale skin were no stranger to me. She was absorbed in the books I had brought, so I swept my gaze to Trinity.

She was staring right back. Bold, but easily intimidated, our eyes met and she looked down. She was small, but experience had taught me to never underestimate someone because of their size, a lot of power could dwell in a small host. Her short black hair was almost boyish, but it suited her pale skin and lean muscular build. She’d resist me the most.

Joan startled me out of my ponderings by shouting and turning her laptop towards me. “Is this your home!?” On the screen were several images of the castle where my parents lived, and where I had grown and trained. I looked at her and smoothly replied, “No, it was a dwelling, a battlefield, a training ground.. but never a home.” She looked back at her screen, and her eyes widened. “What stone is this? In the courtyard? Its blood red, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The stone of the courtyard has long been stained with the blood of both Covens; thousands of years have passed since the Wars began, but that is where they started; where I started them.” I saw her swallow at my explanation. So I continued. “At the time, I don’t think I understood how high the cost for my decision was going to be. I was young, and I was naïve enough to love both my parents dearly. I was ignorant enough to believe that walking in both paths would please them.” I stopped, and looked at Joan. She was staring at me with her mouth agape and her eyes wide open. She was obviously eager to hear me talk about my past, and normally I would not waste my time discussing it, but I had to explain sometime otherwise they’d never trust me.

            “So you’re saying that they blamed you for the Coven Wars?” Trinity blurted out. I smirked at her from my place on the bed. “Yeah, well. I wouldn’t say they blamed me for it; the Wars actually were my fault. My first formal introduction to the Covens and I decided to break all precedents, and choose neither side. I thought that everyone would be proud, I had mastered both magics, I had learned to walk the line of light and shadow, of the Lord and of Satan; more powerful than any God’s witch or Devil’s witch alone. Like I said before, I was naive.”

 I slipped off my leather jacket and pulled my shirt above my head, revealing a barrage of scars on my tanned skin. “The handprint was where my father crushed me to the ground. His skin was burning with his rage. The jagged one across the center that was Mother, lightening doesn’t burn like flame; it feels cold as it rips the flesh from your back.” I lowered my shirt and moved on. “The covens, of course, were outraged. And they had every right to be. I suppose watching my parents punish me after I’d sworn to my contract set everyone off. It was chaos; they nearly drove our species to extinction. And the fighting didn’t stop. They warred for millennia. Creating and destroying armies at will; they shed each other’s blood with no mercy or remorse.” I shrugged and redressed. The conversation was now over.