Share your writing

[Tortured_empath]

I feel as if a lot of people here use writing as a coping mechanism.

I don't know if a thread like this has been made before, but I would like for there to be a place for able to share our writings, inspire each other and give critique if asked.

If you've got any writing you'd like to share with people, feel free to do so here - short or long, prose or poetry

 

[SinisterKid]

I used to write a lot, mainly prose, but other crap as well. It did help with the processes of recovering and coping, but then the words just stopped coming.

A Love Kept Waiting

Ancient, moreso, than the granite
hills that hold my bones.

A love supreme blossomed
in a garden,
laden,
with forbidden fruits.

Lusts, birth,
of carnal knowledge,
built upon Imhoteps foundations
a monument to a
love kept waiting.

We embraced our desires,
beneath,
the crucifix, still
wet with the blood of
a false messiah?

The dark days of the Saracen,
doused our fervour.

Camelot, Arthurian legends,
could not gaol,
hunger,
cravings,
for the flesh,
of a love kept waiting.

The arrows of Agincourt,
could not pierce,
our hearts,
protected by our ardour.

Our couplings, survived,
The Witchfinders scourge,
to yet again,
defeat those who sought
to extinguish our love.

A great fire, sent,
to burn lust,
singed our passion,
but no remorse,
would we display.

War torn nations,
Empires faded,
only served to, postpone,
A love kept waiting.

Eons sought,
to wrench us apart,
and yet, today,
you are with me in my dreams,
distance,
our only hurdle,
and yet,
our love is still,
Kept Waiting.

 

[kohaku]

Oh, hey! I can show off my writing! You guys get an exclusive peek at my sci-fi fic. I haven't finished it. It's supposed to be part of a collection of short stories to develop the universe it's set in. It takes place in the year 4015. The focus is more on worldbuilding than on the plot, admittedly.

Spoiler: Airedale

"During this summer's decontamination of the Asian nuclear fallout border, one of the designated crews of 15 people was attacked by an unidentified, six meter tall creature. The livable area around the radiation zone has significantly expanded since the 20s thanks to the Earth Conservation Committee's operatives, but according to researchers, this is the furthest that their decontamination crews have gone so far. We're here today with Nkechi Agwuegbo, the head researcher of the xenobiology division--"

With a click, the channel on TV suddenly switched to local sports. Chroma didn't even notice when Jackson returned from their break, but they were there, back behind the cafe's counter. Jackson was the barista of Newton Cafe. Chroma knew them well, and she knew just how staunchly they maintained order in the cafe that was designated the safest space for Airedale's robotic citizens. Part of that order was not worrying their guests over the status of the outside world.

Chroma was 1.9 meters tall, but even then Jackson seemed to tower over her. She guessed that was why Jackson was deemed the silent guardian of Newton, asides from the fact that they've worked there for over 40 years. The cafe was just a little over two centuries old, having opened fairly early into Airedale's existence.

Airedale. It was a little piece of the world where time felt like it had frozen. In the 21st century, it would be the equivalent of a highly realistic replica of a 16th century town, including the citizens. In the three centuries it has existed, no significant technological development has happened within. The citizens liked it just how it was, working with what they already had. They were often called luddites, but it rang true on occasion, with how hostile some locals were.

Of course, it was the synth gangsters who trounced whichever poor tourist decided to show off technology from the outside. Glasgow declared Airedale an independent body, and located somewhere in the isolated north, it was kept separate from the rest of Scotland. For a good few decades, it was a wonder to travelers who visited purely for the novelty. Eventually, though, Airedale grew hostile to outsiders. Chroma wasn't too fond of that. If she ever saved up enough to get out of here, she would, and she'd go out and see the world, tired of the bitterness of the locals.

"Need something?" A sultry, androgynous voice sounded behind her. She could almost feel the resonance in her chest, and it made her shudder. Chroma could only wonder how Jackson got their voice that way. It could go from charismatic to downright terrifying when necessary, and the locals knew what an iron grip on the town's cafe business Jackson had. They were the perfect business owner, a ladykiller and a despot.

 

[SinisterKid]

The good old Airedale Terrier, wonderful breed. Thanks for sharing the above, enjoyable read.