Twisted Trust

I wrote this poem roughly half a year ago. The next poem I post will be happy one (already written) :)

Despair is what I’ve come to know

From a life of trying to rise from below

The climb seems impossible alone,

So I reach for a hand with a smile shown,

Only to be let go and take a fall,

Hurting more each time, I stall

Before I trust another smile,

Which in itself seems a sin perfectly vile.

Darkness of Heart (Pt 4)

Despite Rukioh's snoring, Lesion did manage to get at least twenty or so minutes of sleep after they moved the bodies. Lesion groaned and stood up, glaring at Rukioh, who looked as though he'd been knocked out. Except for the incessant snoring.

He walked over and prodded Rukioh. He waited a moment, then shook Rukioh vigorously. Rukioh woke with a start.

“Wha'?” He bolted upright, looking around frantically. He stopped and blinked a few times, his eyes settling on Lesion, who stood there with an obvious smirk.

“Ugh.. can it. Let's go.”

“In a few minutes. We've got time, the sun is rising, and I always do better when I have clear mind.” Lesion sat down next to his brother. They gazed at the rising sun, basking in its beauty and warmth. Minutes passed while the brother's were lost in their relaxed state, the brutal fight of the night blissfully out of their minds.

They came to at the fanfare, which was initiated at the arrival of Emperor Narix. They shouted at each other as they grabbed their belongings and hurried over to the coliseum. When they got to the entrance, both guards immediately recognized them, though one of them looked down and grumbled a bit while the other one gestured for them to hurry inside.

In a short moment they arrived at the waiting room, where they were greeted by Little Baldy.

“Hmph. You missed the opening ceremony, and the initiating of the games. You have about an hour until your duel.” He looked over at Rukioh and frowned. “To the stands with you!” he shouted, shooing him away with his hands. Rukioh turned and jogged away, saying, “Just make it back to me in one functional piece Lesion.”

Lesion gave a curt nod while Rukioh's head was still turned toward him. Lesion spent the next fourty minutes stretching, making sure all of his muscles were ready for anything his opponent could throw at him. The next fifteen minutes he used to get dressed properly for the battle. One thing he was grateful for was that in the death bout, no helmets, chainmail, or any heavy armor at all was allowed, so as to make sure that battles would be bloody. Also, this meant that he had an advantage over any fighter that was used to such armor, like a knight or guard.

Unfortunately for him, his only armor was custom made, being made of an uncommon substance called Celarium. It was very light, yet extremely durable. Luckily for him, he didn't have to pay for the magnificent armor with money, seeing as there was no way he could pull that off. Instead, he had to do the blacksmith a rather large favor.      He had to convince a very specific nobelman's daughter to court him.  Lesion payed the nobleman to have his daughter do so, saying that blacksmith was his cousin, and desperately needed to spend some time with a good girl. He continued on, saying that it didn't need to be a real courting, but it just need to feel that way to his 'cousin'. He then gave the blacksmith the good news, collected the armor, and left town immediately, never to be seen there again.

Lesion donned the light gladiator armor in disgust. It was filthy, the color of the metal changed permanently from being soaked in too much blood, and it had obvious areas where it was repaired, poorly. At least he could use his own weapons. They were called slip-blades, and were made of Wyxite, which was a very rare substance, which he didn't know much about. Each was custom fit to its specified hand, seeing as if they didn't fit properly, they'd be next to useless. The blades curved a little, were thin, and kept keen. The blades were designed to 'slip' between the ribs and slice the lungs, heart, or whatever was in the way. However, despite being thin, they were magnificently strong.

The boom of the drums signaled the end of a duel, which meant that he was up. He pulled out his slip-blades from there sheaths, and walked over to the gate, where he would enter the arena. The gate opened slowly, and he stepped onto the sand.

(I apologize for taking such a long time to post more. I've written quite a bit so I'll try and do a post from one of my books every other week. Please be sure to comment, leave tips/advice, say what you liked, loved, hated, etc. Thank you for reading!)

Devil’s Guise (Poem)

A Shadow cloaked in light;

He is the bringer of blight,

To the souls of mankind,

To make them their teeth grind.

Whilst they cling to their Hope,

As it drops round their neck as rope.

A new poem (NOT written by me)

---I think this a great poem, and while I did not write it, I was asked to post it on my blog. I now do so happily, as I think my blog could use a bit more cheer :)---


Choose to Be Virtuous.
By J.D.S.



The first few breaths of life, an empty slate;
With each passing move, step, word: celebrate.
There’s so much to learn, and so much to do,
So much to seek out: discovering virtue.
The choices of others can weigh on our minds;
Those full of virtue, more happiness finds.
The shallows of life are easy to tread,
For those who choose to be carnal instead.
Let us strengthen ourselves, body and mind!
Go forth with courage: leave weakness behind.

Poem: A Look In the Hall of Life

Soul lies ripped and torn, to get up just to say ‘I’m fine.’
Patience, frail and thin, foot tapping, waiting for a sign.
Hope’s gaze slowly drops down, unable to see the sun shine,
And with a tortured, lie of smile picks up a nearby dime.
 
Perseverance continues ahead, on the floor in a crawl,
Where precious few see that effort, for they’re too tall.
And ragged loneliness leans, restlessly, against the wall,
In this ever twisting hall of life, where every step can be a fall.

It's different from my usual poetry, so please let me know what you think.

Thank you,

Jake Smiley

Poem: Flames of Heart

FLAMES OF HEART

Searing, agonizing, licking painfully between each beat,

explaining, expressing this kind of pain is not an easy feat.

Set aflame and tossed into the depthless dark,

Still the flames make sure to leave their mark.

The flames, with the pain, make a wavy light,

I almost wonder "I deserve this, right?"

With the flames I always know where my heart does lie,

Even when as I wait for endless tears to dry.

I know what I am, I know my own heart,

My heart has no need to restart.

Bring the flames, leave me in the dark,

My heart will shine brightly as it leaves its mark!

Reversing Retribution Pt. 4 is here!

--NOTE: from here, it gets a little more graphic, though I'll be editing the occasional language on the blog--

Aidan’s eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness.  Instead of nothing, he could see dim, vague outlines of his surroundings.  Aidan stood perfectly still, his breathing halted as he listened for the sound of breathing.  He wasn’t disappointed.  It was very soft and shallow, but audible to Aidan’s sharp ears.

The twisted monster was just to the left of the doorway, waiting to attack.  Aidan took a silent breath, switching the knife to his left hand the pot to his right, and quietly set the duct tape on the floor.

Then he took a quick step in, already holding the knife to block an attack to the face or neck.  The man was already sending his fist at Aidan’s face before he realized he’d be hitting a sharp knife.  The knife cut deep between his knuckles.  As he recoiled, clutching his hand, Aidan swung the pan hard into the man’s head, knocking him out instantly and down to the floor.

            Aidan tossed the bloody knife and the pan to the back of the room as he turned to get the duct tape he’d left at the doorway.  Aidan quickly taped him securely to the wooden chair in the back of the room, finishing by taping his mouth shut.

            He stood just in front of the chair, waiting for consciousness to return to the inhuman murderer.  No doubt he’ll be nothing but the picture of repentance and remorse when he’s awake.  Nothing makes a person fill with regret as much as death, because of the permanency of it, and the mystery of what’s beyond it.

            In a short while the thing in the chair started moving a small amount and its eyes slowly started opening.  Aidan’s eyes narrowed as his hands subconsciously formed into fists.  Once it seemed to fully awake, he smashed his jaw with a left hook.  There was little reaction, to which Aidan ripped off the tape suddenly.

            The hell spawn spat out blood along with a tooth, and just as it started to open its mouth to speak – no, to beg – Aidan’s right fist connected with it’s stomach, and it spat out a little more blood.  When Aidan punched the damned man full in the face, with a satisfying crunch as his hand crushed his nose, the chair fell over backwards.

            Aidan’s mind blanked out, and when it returned, there was singinificantly more blood on him and over the floor, but the ------ was definitely still alive and kicking.  Aidan’s eyes widened as his brain registered the mess in front him.

            What the hell am I doing?  Am I really… am I really about to take yet another human life?  Aidan collapsed to the floor as memories he’d thought erased slowly seeped into his mind.




--2nd note: please remember to leave a comment or two on what you like and dislike in my writing.  Thank you very much for reading!--

Darkness of Heart (pt 3)

  “Names and event or events you are participating in?” the worker asked.

  “Lesion Rayne. Death bout” The small man looked up at him, muttered something that gave Lesion the impression the man was surprised they'd made it to the right room. The irritated shorty turned to face Rukioh.

  “And you?” he asked. Rukioh shifted a little, then answered. “I'm here with Lesion is all.” He scowled at Rukioh and ushered him out of the room, telling him he must leave the premises. Rukioh shouted 'don't lose' and 'good luck' to his brother as he was escorted out.

  'Good luck?' Lesion sighed. He's wishing you well. Take it as it was meant. Lesion shook his head, then held it tightly with his hands. He let go, and saw several people staring at him. He swore at them and walked out of the room, almost walking into the little man. Lesion stopped and turned around as he passed him.

  “Where do I sleep?” Lesion said loud enough to know that he would be heard. Without turning around, the small man said, “Not my problem. Figure it out yourself.” He sure was a lot of help... Lesion thought darkly as he turned around and walked out of the coliseum, where Rukioh stood, tapping his foot.

  “Let me guess. We've gotta find our own place to stay the night?” Rukioh asked sardonically.

  “You could have just said, 'I told you so'.”

  “Aw, but that wouldn't have been as much fun.” Rukioh grinned. Lesion smiled back and walked over to him.

  “I take it this means you found a place, right?” Lesion asked. Rukioh feigned shock.

  “I can't believe you would actually ask that!” They both grinned. “It's the Kasian Inn. The only place that still had any open rooms. Which is because, I'll add, it's your kind of place.” Lesion smirked and told him to lead the way.

  They arrived at the inn, which, though devoid of people for the most part, was very loud. Lesion and Rukioh looked at each other, nodded, then turned around and walked out.

  Nothing was spoken as they searched for a place to make camp. After several long minutes, they found a spot they agreed on. They quickly got everything set up, then fell asleep.

  Lesion's eyes flashed open, but he remained motionless, listening closely for any sound of movement nearby. Something, or someone, must have made a sound to wake him up. Then he heard it. A muffled footstep on the grass, and it didn't sound far away. As the seconds passed, he could hear a few more steps. By the sound of it, he figured there were at least three of them. Lesion silently slid his hand beneath his pillow and grabbed the handle of his knife tightly.

  The person from whom Lesion first heard the footsteps stopped. Lesion lashed out with his knife, cutting deep from the man's shoulder and up across the neck. Blood sprayed from his neck as he fell to the ground, his eyes wide, bewildered and filled with fright. Lesion hurried to his feet as two more men threw themselves at him.

  Lesion quickly jumped out of the way, then threw his knife into the further opponent's chest. The remaining man glanced down at his fallen comrade that was writhing in pain on the ground. He glared at Lesion, who returned the favor. Lesion brought up his fists as his opponent pulled out a sword with a dark and malicious grin.

  Lesion held his position as the man dashed forward, thrusting the blade at his chest. Lesion quickly stepped to the side and brought his knee up sharply into his stomach. As his assailant started to double over, Lesion kicked his knee. A loud crack and a piercing scream immediately filled the air. Lesion quickly silenced the screaming by snapping his neck.

  Surprisingly, there was no major reaction from the nearby town. Lesion shrugged, figuring that if people didn't notice or care about why those sounds were made, he needn't make a bigger deal out of it. He turned over to check on Rukioh, who was looking at him through eyes filled with tears and pain.

  “Lesion, why did you kill them?” Tears continued to fall from Rukioh's eyes as he spoke sofly, yet harshly. Lesion put his hand to his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

  “It was self defense. Their intentions were to kill, so I handled the situation accordingly.”

  “That doesn't mean you have to kill them!” Rukioh shouted as he walked quickly over to Lesion. Lesion stood still, facing his brother and looking at him square in the eye.

  “Look, you should know life isn't some happy fantasy! Either they died, or we died. I mean, if I let them live, I'm sure there are others they would have gotten to join up with them so they could try again later. All I did was end a bad situation quickly and decisively.” Rukioh stared at Lesion, and for a moment, Lesion expected tears to leak out. Instead, he just turned from Lesion and walked over to his belongings.

  Lesion sat down, pondering. I don't get him. We came here for me to participate as a gladiator in a death bout. He knew the whole time I'd be killing people, and he didn't raise this kind of a fuss about it. Besides, these people were murderers, not people trying to make some money to buy food and survive in this hell longer.

  Lesion closed his eyes and meditated. After a few minutes, his eyes popped open as he realized what must be the reason Rukioh was upset that Lesion killed them. Why didn't I see it before?! If we had kept at least one alive, we could have found out exactly as to why they were trying to kill us. Now we won't be able to find out until we're attacked again.

  “Lesion? What do you intend to do with the bodies?”

  He looked over at Rukioh. This is for you big brother, he thought as a feeling of peace settled inside him. “Well, I imagine they had friends or family. We'll take them closer to town while everyone is still asleep so that they'll be found in the morning.” Rukioh nodded, with a look of relief in his eyes