Psychward1

Have you ever noticed what wonderful colors occupy a bruise? There’s vibrant greens, hazy blues, rich purples and strong reds. But why do such beautiful colors only occur on us in such an unwanted form? Why are we naturally such dull colors, even though they do look nice on us, wouldn’t it be pleasant to have some brighter colors? Like if we had teal skin and bright orange eyes, with yellow pupils! And freckles would be royal purple and the hair from our heads could be pink and red. Or what if we became a type of rainbow people. Our skin would be transparent and beneath would shimmer all the colors of the rainbow, like light dancing

The little China Doll sits perfectly still in her place on the tall shelf. Her pretty little dress is crisp and clean, the lace is white as snow and no stains mar the bright floral print arranged perfectly about her. Ivory shoes shine in the sunbeams and her bonnet sits perfectly straight on her head. From beneath sweet brown curls peek out, delicate and perfectly round. Perfectly framing her perfect face. Pale china skin, smooth and cool, with a tinge of pink paint on her cheeks. Long lashes curls up from her big, beautiful baby-blue eyes. Sweet, cherry red lips, open slightly, sculpted finely, painted perfectly. The beauty of the cluttered

Thin and brittle, The Aspen stands, Quaking in the wind, Its leaves stripped bare, By winter's razor edge. Shivering, naked, It longs to be, As the Pine. Lush, green needles, Bursting with sweet fragrance, Cling to the tree, Though harsh winter rages, Like lovers' embrace, Never to be broken. The Aspen stands, Cold and jealous, Longing for its own leaves, That dance and sing, With the smallest breeze, Their laughter shining, Bright green in the sun. The Aspen waits, As icicles tighten their grip, For joyous spring, And its Treasures' return.

Late on Christmas night our downstairs toilet, currently the only functioning one in our house and unfortunately is also the one most likely to clog, overflow, spew geysers of water etc…; overflowed. Now, when I went to investigate the otherworldly noises issuing from our lavatory I discovered several things. The first was that my new socks, with pictures of giraffes on them, were absorbing some of the small sea on the tile. The second was that the seat of the toilet was up. Being as only males leave the seat up, females have a tendency to get their rears caught in the bowl if they do, and there was only one male inhabitant in our house

Serf *Runs into the church dragging the victim* Please Father, help my friend, she’s got the plague! I can’t lose another family member, I just can’t, all the rest of my family’s died. Will you pray for her? Priest Of course my child. But, this pestilence has been brought upon us because of man’s horrible sinning, so, naturally, it will require extra praying, so I‘ll of course need some payment. *Rummages through the victims pockets* Victim Father… *Coughs* I’m afraid I don’t have much… Priest *Grumbles and pulls out a few pennies*  You’re right! You’re poor as dirt, so until

Narrator The tale begins 10 years prior, when Prince Paris stole King Menelaus’s wife, the beautiful Helen. He spirited her away from Sparta to his walled city of Troy. And Menelaus called for is brother’s aid, so Agamemnon and Menelaus assembled a massive army and boarded them all on ships, ready to lay siege to the Trojans.  But everyday as they made to set sail, fierce winds blew them back holding them in the harbor and the men grew impatient, praying to the gods, pleading to be permitted to set sail, begging to be told what they had to do to got to war. And they were told--the sacrifice of a pure maiden had to be made. So Aga

Here comes the thunder storm's dark head rolling in, Batten down the hatches, prepare for the danger, The ship leaps up and down, as the waves toss her, Water, wind, sleet, hail, shout above the din, Foam and brine swirl about the seaman's barrow, The driving force, the current you can't fight, Stars fade into the clouds of the deep night, Bitter chill seeps into bone's marrow. The sun fights its way through a cloudy blanket, Shining in deep places where dark things have met. The water is calm, gently holding us. But be wary where you put your trust, The most glourious, beautiful gem of them all, The fickle sea will not catch you

Don’t leave me alone. Here on this barren mountain, Stripped bare by a cutting wind, Of all trees, shelter, beauty, life. Below me wonder blankets the hills, Rolling easily up and down. But that sweet view is vanishing, Sleet blinds me, Ice cuts into my flesh, Numb from the cold, I’m freezing, Ever so slowly, Freezing to death. Don’t leave me alone. Save me, Carry me down from this hell on top of the world, Once a place of beauty, The winter storms bring death. Take me down, Take me to a fire, so I can warm my chilled flesh, Give me a blanket, so I can sleep safe and sound, Wrap me in your arms so I can f