deviantART: gallery:nightgolem/12222251

Without You I am Nothing

Fri, 05 Apr 2013 02:18:07 PDT

Another short story for my character Linden. Sad stories are sad.

© Sarius Impariul

I Believed

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 15:14:43 PDT

A short story involving one of my characters when they were younger.

© Sarius Impariul

Guiltless

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 17:09:28 PDT

_{Once upon a time there was a little girl. She had blond and large orange eyes. With such long hair and cute dresses as she, nobody could see the spotted marks on her skin or the tail behind her.. or even the rounded canine ears that hid beneath that those thick locks. Even her angelic smile hid the sharp teeth and strong jaws. The guiltless spirit gave a sad look to the teacher, shedding her crocodile tears. Around her feet was broken toys. She had been found with them broken around her, toys that belonged to other children in the school. The teacher of course let her off the hook. The guiltless's father was a very wealthy man that spent all his time earning money despite having more then enough. Her mother was a man who ignored reality, thinking the internet was the only true reality. This meant at home, nobody was watching her or paying her any attention, or caring for her. The teacher had seen such a parenting system with straight children too so she knew the guiltless was just lonely. This was what the teacher thought when looking to the innocent looking spirits face. The guiltless nodded as she started back towards her seat, away from the cubby holes area.

In truth she did this because in the morning during class some of the other students had started picking on her. They deserved to pay, right? And the teachers punishment would have only been a time out, that's nothing. To come in early from recess to break their toys was just the minor punishment they deserved. If they didn't want to pay for their crimes then they shouldn't have committed them to begin with. Tease her? They had no right to be mean! Everyone who was mean should be punished. She wiped away her fake tears as she sat to her desk. School continued. The kids, instead of stopping their teasing, got worse because she had broken their toys. How dare they! She had already warned them right? She would make them pay, didn't they know better? After school they threw dirt at her before she had started walking home. She would make them pay, and feel not a shred of guilt for it. She was punishing them after all, all bad people needed to be punished. Getting home she did as she always did, took a bath, did her homework, and made dinner for herself and her mother. She spoke to her mother over her laptop, it was the only real way to bond with him. It made her feel his love in at least some form.

When it was around midnight the seven year old left the house in a cute little dress and shoes. One by one she went to each of the homes to the kids that bulled her. One by one she killed each person in that home, washed up, then went to the next home. She knew not pity, nor guilt. Why would she? They were in the wrong, not her. They deserved to die, to watch their family die then to be the last one. Each child's pleas were like musicals to her ears. How did she kill them? With her claws and teeth that could snap even bones. After that she put their corpses in to the fire place then took the bones with her afterwards. Getting home, she was humming joyfully. With all these bones she could make a lot of nice soup for mother, or maybe grind it up and give to father to sell! She loved it when she could see her father. Yes, that's just what she would do... The next day of school class went on as normal, rumors and fear spread of the missing families. Day by day, the class became more and more empty until it was her and the teacher left. The school had even gotten a bit more quiet. Other kids always made fun of her, but.. who was laughing now?

Beware of the guiltless spirit, for she is easy to succumb to. It is easy to give in to wanting revenge, but wrath is never the answer to a problem. There are always other ways, life is much easier if you use patience and understanding, rather then giving in to tantrums of anger or rage that can easily twist one in to taking life.}

~~~~~~~~~~~

Art created using MS paint. In case you didn't catch it shes the daughter to the dreamer and the hunter from the greed and the sloth story. I think this stories message is probably the most up front yet.

Completed Sin Stories
|Greed|Sloth||Lust||Wrath|

© Sarius Impariul

Sleepers

Fri, 18 May 2012 07:43:24 PDT

_{The sleeper looked to the paper. So one of those creatures were still alive? A mother full of life inside her and possibilities, but this is not what the spirit was interested in. The fish that gave such life had to have something in their body to produce youth. This person was already as beautiful as could be, even having deceptively white wings. These were perfect anyway now weren't they? It gave those they laid with the illusion that it was a pure virgin being pushed against the silk sheets. Each person so eager to be pleasured thinking it is free, but they all loose their souls in the end. It is the sleeper who is pleasured as well as pleased, getting what they want and need. Touch is so addicting, as is that euphoric release that comes along. Why hold back or treat it special? It's just another thing you can do with the body. Thinking is over rated, let the lust, passion, and instincts shut your thoughts off for a bit to leave one with the best memories. If it wasn't better then memories of your wedding or birth of your child you wouldn't be in bed with me now would you? Men and woman deep inside are unloving creatures of lust that will fall to their knees and degrade themselves for even a small taste of the flesh paradise.

This was just a bit of what the spirit thought. The world runs on sex, that is their thought. It was a playground for those beautiful and skilled enough to earn it. The winged person reached to their phone on the night stand, dialing in the number then waiting. It didn't take much convincing to get them willing to try to make something from the oil, but they would need someone to supply the fish. The sleeper knew just who to tell them who would bring it, after that call the spirit made another. This was to the hunter, but the mans boyfriend picked up instead. It didn't get their feathers ruffled since it was easy enough to just leave a message and hang up. There was no if in the job offer, the hunter took any job as long as you paid them enough. For the price of beauty? The sleeper would pay any price. To be something others lust for you need to be a feast for the eyes in beauty. A knock hit upon the spirits door. So early? But any hour was a good hour though. From the bed they walked to the door. This person was a stranger to the sleeper, yet still they lured them to the bed to strip away the clothing and reason. From sounds of pleasure to screams then silence. Their soul and life was of course the price they paid the sleeper for the fun, after all the spirit needed their youth retained.

Beauty was what lured people to your bed. Love? Just a pretty imaginary word to this spirit people used to make themselves feel better about paying to be in their bed. So LOVE was what drew you from your spouse and children? How laughable. The spirit took the persons corpse before dragging it over to their fire place and feeding its body to the flames. He wasn't young enough for the spirits tastes to cut open and milk the blood out of for baths. Outside their doors the sleeper could hear voices, many many. Oh, another day of having their pick of the litter? They were so glad this word had lost all shame it once had and has fallen to the flames. The spirit walked to their door, shooing all the men and women to stand in the yard. Wearing only transparent violet silk that hung on the body as if ready to fall off the spirit spread their body and wings to display to their followers. The dreamers home was a temple where they were worshiped as if they were of the heavens. Incense burned at both sides, and pillars stood strong. Oh yes, who needs any Gods or Goddesses or lords from above when you have sex to worship?

The sleeper can easily trick anyone in to its grasp. There the only thing that matters is lust, and beauty to keep others lusting after you. Group by group the dreamer intended to take all of them in to their bedroom. By the end of the day the spirit would have enough blood for a grand bath...}

~~~~~~~~~~~

Created using MS paint. It actually took a few days to finish writing this story. Each sin story carries with it a moral, can you see them? Can you hear the moral in lust? It may be a horror story for reading on a Halloween night but that doesn't mean you can't learn from it.

Completed Sin Stories
|Greed||Sloth||Lust||Wrath|

© Sarius Impariul

Dreamers

Fri, 11 May 2012 23:07:12 PDT

_{For him no season was a good time to be out, it didn't matter. There was nothing picture perfect about the real world. How real is it anyway? It wasn't, not a bit of it. Every day was the same, same assholes, same sluts male and female alike, same alcohol chugging idiots that claim they aren't alcoholics since it's for 'fun' after work. He didn't understand how the idea of fucking your body and mind over for a night was pleasing. Whats the point? Drinking leads you to car accidents, destroying property, relationships, some people rape or get raped while drunk, some kill animals, some have a fuck with someone and knock them up or find out the next day when they sober up that they slept with someone ugly as fuck. Honestly, it's just way too much of a hassle to ever have drinking worth the trouble. At least it was funny enough to make fun of people stupid enough to drink themselves senseless, hell even take pictures of it. Put some captions under it then spread it over the net and you have another funny thing for everyone all over the world to look at. Cell phones were slower net wise then actual computers but more compact so if you need to leave your home the 'world' will never leave you. The fresh flowers of spring come in more variety and look better online, avatars are more real then yourself, this reality is addictive. These were some of the many thoughts that ran through the boys head, too lazy to even attempt to look past his world of illusion.

Why should he? The spirit had no reason to. He left the house, letting out an annoyed sigh. He closed the front door after leaving, not bothering to lock it. He was too distracted by the silver colored object in one of his hands. When the 'world' always brought you 'closer' to people then of course it could be a bit easy to forget things. He couldn't remember the scent of fresh grass, the sensation of dancing in a field of tall wild grasses and flowers, or having conversations with physical friends in the same room. Technology had made for him a world of love, lust, hate, fun, cute, and anything else he felt like it had to be at the moment. This was an annoying rarity that had to be done. Take an adventure through this false grey place that was more illusions and lies then real world. He didn't have to pay his own rent or for his own furniture or bills, but when he ran out of food he would need to get more. The drive was short for him, he didn't stop for thuds against the car, screams, signs, other cars, or street lights even when they were red. He was too distracted with his phone, texting people and playing games on it. When he got to the store he bought things that would take the least amount of effort, corn dogs, hot pocket, microwavable pizza, pop tarts, chips, and general junk food. He bought them in bulk since they could last a long time and it could avoid him having to leave his beloved home computer too long at home.

Be it getting out of the car or going in, both times he did it in a similar fashion. A normal walking phase, eyes to the screen. It was only when he started loading up the food in the car did he realized it had body parts, shattered glass, and blood on it. He didn't say anything, instead just updated his status to 'Cars drty, ill wsh it w/gt bck hom'. No mention of the blood, or that it was from the people he had killed. Why should he? Theses people didn't really exist in his reality, just puppets to every day life. He got back in his car after he finished unloading the food in to the car. He drove back, still as chatty and playful as ever with his cell phone. When he got back home he text his roommate, promising to give them ten dollars if they unloaded the food in the house quick for him before work. His roommate was a hunter, always working and never short of cash but always willing to do more for money. When they got out of the house he handed the room mate the ten dollars before heading to the side yard of the home. There the spirit found what he needed, moving around his own long fluffy tail a bit before heading back out. The phone was held in one hand, and an empty bucket with a sponge inside in the other one. Putting it next to the cart he placed it down then walked over to the water, turning the metal until the flow of water could be heard rushing through the hose it was connected with.

Grabbing the hose he walked to the car and started washing it. Kinda funny though he thought, it was more dirty when he got home then when he was at the store. He didn't over think it though, instead he washed the car clean, after all if he left it on it would be harder to get off later. He didn't need that kind of headache. When the spirit was finished he grabbed the bucket, walking to the sidewalk. He put the bucket down and begun texting people for a few minuets with his back slouched against a street light. He took his sweet time wit playing around before actually putting his phone away for a second so he could dump the contents of the bucket in the gutter. After that he started walking back to the house. The car was clean but the drive way was stained with red as was part of the side walk, the bucket, and the gutter that was now filled with blood and pieces of body parts. For the spirit though, he was just glad the moment of suffrage without his internet was gone. He is a spirit of sloth, laziness. Keeping in his world of illusions a reality in his own mind the spirit will make any excuse to cover the reality from themselves. Numb to death and killing, they will do anything they can to make their own lives easier. Be careful not to get possessed, or you may end up loosing a lot more then you expected..}

~~~~~~~~~~~

Created in MS paint, tried but failed to make it the same type of minimalist style as green had. It used more colors then I'm happy with, but never the less I still like it. I decided to make a horror story for every sin, the kind that can spook you as its told on a good Halloween night. This is about the spirit of sloth, it tells you taking short cuts or not paying enough attention can cost you a lot. Beware being possessed by the spirit of sloth and its deceptive nature. It looks and feels so harmless but it may not be as harmless as you imagine.. and could lead to bad habits. Any tips, suggestions, or critiques are welcome and appreciated~

Completed Sin Stories
|Greed||Sloth||Lust||Wrath|

© Sarius Impariul

Hunters

Fri, 20 Apr 2012 22:56:29 PDT

_{Within the ocean with feathered winged fins flys a fish, it is a spirit of freedom, wisdom, and life. No matter how strongly he swam or high he flew the spirit could feel the hunters blade getting closer and closer. A blade connected to a long rope. It was so stained with blood that even the seemingly endless salty ocean couldn't wash away its blood, as it flicks it about in the air and leaves a stained trail within the waters behind. Eternally drenched in the sin of life taking, he stays with his weapon with glee awaiting for his next kill. As relentless as the dead and soulless as the steal they wielded, time mattered not to him. Day or night, as long as the kill was taken, the hunter would take its corpse and chop it then sell it for money. He could not see the fish as a life, or the life it created, or wisdom it held. All he could see above the lively waters was a beast who's flesh could make him money. Finally, under the moon within the darkened inky night while the fish was within the sky he jumped from the blade to let his leathery wings open for flight. A dark smile crossed the lips in watching the creature struck so did so again and again until it could struggle no more.

The hunter wrapped the beast within his weapons ropes with satisfaction coursing through. The gaping wounds and lack of struggle meant he had won the pursuit. With unnatural weapons and a deathly persistence the creatures inevitable tiring had been expected, yet that took no thrill from the hunt. Even it was something that could not have defended itself, it didn't make victory any less sweet or the profit any less. So he started back home on to his weapon, he used the tears and cries of the creature as music to hum, sing and dance to within his celebrating. When he arrived on land, the inevitable profit for his kill filled their pockets.. Though it wasn't enough for him. He would need to go on another hunt to gain more wealth. The man had all he needed to live a comfortable life of wealth, yet it wasn't enough. It would never be enough for such a beastly spirit. There are many spirits the same as him though, each one all too willing to tempt humanity in to succumbing to the throws of greed. Tell them the reward is worth the suffering, worth the death, worth killing anything so long as they make their profit.
Always these spirits play with their human preys mind and spirit, trying to sing all their morals away so they wont look to the reflection inside.. for they may see the blood of regret staining. Was it an animal? a forest? a local store? your pet? Home? Perhaps your most beloved? When the spirit of the hunter greed has taken hold, only looking within may you free your soul. Could you possibly make it in time, before the eternal blood has stained you?}

~~~~~~~~~~~

Art created using MS paint. With the art I went for something with little color, thought it fit the design over all, the symbolism, and the story. I think it compliments the piece this way, and the story that goes with it. I meant to give the hunter wings in the art piece but I forgot around the time I started working on him. By the time I remembered, if I added the wings then, it would no longer add to the piece. I suppose this piece is mixed media? Or just two mediums working in harmony. hope everyone enjoys it.

Completed Sin Stories
|Greed||Sloth||Lust||Wrath|

© Sarius Impariul

So Sees The Eyes Of Rot

Sun, 27 Nov 2011 00:26:44 PST

Something I wrote up tonight. Would it be odd to say it came to me while I listened to and looped the song 'Fukkireta' Sung by both the UTAU Teto and the Vocaloid Len together? Really, its the truth! XD

© Sarius Impariul.

Lucifer

Mon, 08 Feb 2010 11:57:15 PST

No this is not a love poem to the devil. Its a poem about me and my hun hun, whom name just happens to be Lucifer.

© Sarius Impariul.

Plague

Sun, 02 Jan 2011 13:49:36 PST

Are you in the voice or on the bed of lilies?

© Sarius Impariul

Orange Wings

Sat, 25 Dec 2010 02:32:44 PST

Created for my character Ty Ty~

© Sarius Impariul

Bone White

Sat, 25 Dec 2010 00:27:44 PST

Merry Christmas! Sorry its so dark~

© Sarius Impariul

Winter Drought

Sun, 28 Nov 2010 03:46:47 PST

Can you read through the layers and find out what it is about?

© Sarius Impariul.

Mazamunafuune

Tue, 09 Nov 2010 14:45:20 PST

It's a story not prose;

Masamunafume/Mazamuunafuune = something I tried my best to translate. Life soul soup was my attempt to though I know that's not what it means it was the closest I could come to.

meshunafuune = I have NOOO idea how to translate this in to English>.<

Story picked by Mehue-
Translated to English by me.
Clothing Mehue had to pose in to get to choose the story - traditional sun and moon dancing clothing.

© Sarius Impariul.

Weave

Wed, 20 Oct 2010 20:24:30 PDT

I surprised myself while writing this o.O

© Sarius Impariul.

In memory

Tue, 19 Oct 2010 16:30:42 PDT

I drew something to go with it but my scanner isn't working...

© Sarius Impariul.

Rabbits Trail

Sun, 03 Oct 2010 20:19:58 PDT

Is this the kind of cracked out stuff a person writes when one of the gaia avatars inspires them? I.. have nooo idea what to make of this poem yet. I would have put it under prose but the options made no sense at all, and its prose/poetry, not a story. Though it sounds like a story so maybe it's all three?

© Sarius Impariul.

Angel In The Snow

Mon, 16 Aug 2010 18:30:05 PDT

I originally wrote angel in the snow on the first forum I ever joined. It was called serene poetry, I believe my screen name there was rune_fairy_thich. After having it along with a few other poems saved over awhile I put it in a yahoo group that I use to store and thus save my poetry [link] . There it saved, likely put through spell check the time I made it but my spelling likely so bad at the time that was the best I could do. Many years later I made 'angel in the snow 2' [link] . I thought those where beginning and end but while I was at my fathers two other parts came to me. I thought I would need to do more to the older parts of it that where made but all I really did was fix some spelling here and there and move things around a little bit. I'm not sure if its a poem, a prose, or a story but hey! Enjoy.

© Sarius Impariul.

-Rainbow Rose

Mon, 26 Jul 2010 03:41:18 PDT

This poem I finished making not long ago and is the reason I finally remembered to put that art piece up. A poem created for my character Malucious Alaice.

[edit] Added a second part to the poem~ Its plain to see because it has separation from the first. I think it really completes it, though the second half talks about light somehow the way its spoken just adds more darkness and hopelessness to it to me.. Though it also suggests there may be hope one day.

© Sarius Impariul.

This Game

Tue, 13 Jul 2010 19:24:26 PDT

Oh for gods sake its finally done! Days and days this poem has harassed me. Each day I thought 'I think its done I just want to run it past a few people to smooth out the rough edges'. But the next day I would get more, and more! And today I got what feels like the final parts.

I'm very proud of this poem, its almost like a story, but its also dark and holds a crud load of symbolism. I haven't yet fully figured the poem out myself, though I already know it's basic meanings etched within. If you don't like reading about the destruction of minds or people getting killed though then this poem probably isn't right for you.

Critique is welcome- but remember that means saying what you think in detail, and say why. That helps me improve, the more detail the better. Without enough detail it is not only unhelpful but I'll ether nag you for more detail or think you aren't critiquing but insulting it.

I do try my best to get better and better- and critiques help. That is why I thrive for them.

© Sarius Impariul.

Fulsis Atratiz Information

Wed, 07 Jul 2010 21:51:27 PDT

A world I made up a little ago to use in a forum. I'm thinking of leaving the said forum though so I'm saving my work here~

information and pictures linked are © Sarius Impariul.

Fulsis

Wed, 07 Jul 2010 21:46:21 PDT

A world I made up a little ago to use in a forum. I'm thinking of leaving the said forum though so I'm saving my work here~

information and map linked are © Sarius Impariul.

Still Young - Chaos Heart

Wed, 21 Apr 2010 17:49:19 PDT

The third chapter part thing! At the end he does get to Felarya but it was getting to so many pages I decided to have the evil people eaten at the fourth and last one for the first story of Bryos here. Can anyone guess what part of Felarya hes in?

Bryo Kakos is © Sarius Impariul(me).
Felarya is © Karbo.

Still Young- Goodbye

Wed, 17 Feb 2010 20:25:40 PST

Writing the second chapter was hard because of its nature. It's depressing, has death, and made me very glad that the evil people get eaten at the end of the next chapter >>; I hope others enjoy this. The end of the next one will be when they finally enter felarya.

Ah and felarya belongs to karbo~ XD

Still Young- Birthday

Mon, 15 Feb 2010 01:15:59 PST

Finally! The first chapter of still young is complete. While I kept trying my best before I had a lot of doubt and little motivation so it was very hard. Thanks to this person though [link] I was given the motivation I needed to finish it. The picture I used there is bryos mom, if you didn't know! I hope you enjoy!

I now will start on the second chapter. He wont get in to felarya until the third chapter. And as we know Felarya belongs to Karbo.

Still Young-Prologue

Mon, 04 Aug 2008 16:42:06 PDT

This is the prologue for what I plan to be a fan fiction of how my character Bryo became what he is now. Its marked fan fiction because if it looks good then I plan to have later chapters after hes what he is to be in Felarya. I'll put up one chapter at a time and put them up, when I get to where he is in Felarya though and I make a mistake, correct me please.

UNTIL he gets there though the world he is in and was born in I created, along with him, so no taking credit for that.

The world of Felarya is Karbos creation and so belonfgs to him.

I should really learn how to put peoples avatar piccy links things up...

Easter Mess

Wed, 17 Mar 2010 18:34:51 PDT

This is a short story submission to the spring story contest going on in the group love with an alien~ It was a very random idea.. XD It it seemed so cute but amusing to me. It was VERY fun to make~ And when I read it over.. I find it very amusing! I think likely if everyone really DID think Coun was grumpy then.. there's a reason why the child wasn't lead out of the area! They might have even all told him about Easter and said something like 'maybe some holiday cheer would make him less grumpy...' xD ANYWAY! Enjoy!

© Sarius Impariul.

Broken To Liquid - Part 1

Fri, 06 Mar 2009 03:35:35 PST

This is part one of the small story of one of my characters histories I'm writing. I write a lot and end up keeping it to myself but I think this is something sharable ^^

Warning though this is a dark fantasy story so if you can't take it then don't read >>;

The Smallest Words

Fri, 02 May 2008 03:08:20 PDT

This is a fan fiction for the roll playing game called 'The Moralistic Spectrum'.
[link]
[link]

I label it under fan fiction because I did not create the roll play and not all the characters I used where mine.

Aimie Ingolfsson(lord knows) mine
Abbot Ingolfsson(lord knows) - mine
Freyr Ingolfsson(4 in the story) - mine
Khizr Zeryx(7 in the story) - Kaiamis
Agriya Zeryx(11 in the story) Kaiamis
Dr. Cian Zeryx(lord knows) - Kaiamis

The story takes place 25 years before the roll play started.

Hunting Illusions

Fri, 11 Jun 2010 21:20:29 PDT

The picture and the poem both go together. The poem is about a creature that lures people in with an illusion and by the time the light fades it's already too late to escape the different land in which the dead nor the mortal roam. The rest of the story.. I think is rather simple to figure out.

© Sarius Impariul

[edit]For those who don't fully comprehend the poem I will help you- for those who don't want to know don't read this! XD Anyway you can tell the creatures animal is a vulture from mentioning under the ravens wing. Ravens may have the symbol of death on them and is above others but the one below it that gets covered in blood.

[link]

After thinking over the poem enough and reading it over I realized something I hadn't about him when I had put up the outline of these two(link above is mentioned picture). While before I knew he had a beloved whom the poem conveys about his deep love for her- he who kills of people, tears of their flesh and makes their soul a drink for her. His maiden was dead. I realized it when I kept thinking about the glass. The mortal that had fallen in to that realm had fallen on to glass shards, and there was broken glass around him. Besides those hints there's also other small hints in the poem that points to her death.

A death where her soul no longer remains and so she cannot be brought back. But I believe her corpse still sits there somewhere because of the line 'Owls watch with hidden faces in the dead tree oasis.' Besides many other things it says it does also suggest the corpse is there. Be it rotting or not, it remains. After all if she was alive would he really say at the end 'I hope she'll drink'? It also leads me to believe that after she died he had trouble ever accepting her death. Rather he couldn't, and so he gathers those nectars of life and place them around her in hopes 'she will drink' and 'hopes for her to drink'. He loves her so deeply that he refuses to let go of her even in death.

He traps people in his world of death then kills them, only to use their soul in an attempt to get out of his own self entrapment. He is stuck in a dark sad circle in which the only way out is to accept the death of the woman he loved so deeply- but his heart simply can't bear the idea of loosing her, and a glass bottle can only hold the energy that used to be a soul for so long before it breaks. So the loop continues and his world only continues its dark twisted outlook.

Weep for all those who see the false paradise only to fall from the illusion and in to his world and hands. But weep more for the monster who is eternally entrapped.

Three Doors

Mon, 10 May 2010 23:52:07 PDT

Came up with it while listening to oh death [link] . It seems rather dark, anyone care to guess what it's about or what it means?

© Sarius Impariul.

Eternal Nights

Thu, 25 Mar 2010 14:48:27 PDT

A poem about my new character Ulzaz Astraliaz. Yay? I'm not quite sure what its about really, but I know its not about a break up.

© Sarius Impariul.

While He Slept

Mon, 08 Feb 2010 13:03:33 PST

-Broken Paradise-

Tue, 02 Feb 2010 14:16:27 PST

Something I wrote while I was away and finally typed out x_x

Liben = angel or angelic creature in the same family.

This is the written of my piece broken paradise. The other half is here [link]

© Sarius Impariul.

Dancing on the grave

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 21:24:24 PDT

I was thinking the poem the day I herd my grandfather die in the morning hours before my mother or myself had herd of him being dead so I thought I should finally white it down and put it somewhere.

© Sarius Impariul.

Eternities Rain

Sun, 11 May 2008 22:42:51 PDT

Eh, why not? One of my many many poems, trust me I have a lot stored away.

Infact - [link]

YOU guess what its about, I'm not telling

Trembling Is What Children Do

Mon, 07 Sep 2009 23:00:55 PDT

Dance of Sun and Moon

Mon, 07 Sep 2009 22:56:30 PDT

Lost Tears

Mon, 07 Sep 2009 22:53:11 PDT

Depression

Mon, 27 Apr 2009 08:16:17 PDT

I've been a tad depressed over being gay for a few weeks - so shoot me >_> I'm allowed to be depressed over that. Anyone who wants to get on my case can go straight down to hell.

Note that this is my art, made entirely by me so do not try to copy parts of it for your own. If I find any art thefts I will report the thief responsible. This is a warning that includes all of my art. Yes writing is considered art as well.

Ours Is Not Yours

Fri, 17 Oct 2008 23:45:38 PDT

Guess what its about, go ahead >>