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Literature
Chronicles of Gabrador: Burning Attitude
    Colin paid no attention to the door, instead he went back to looking for the bed in his closet. It wasn't until the door slammed open that he stopped, "Did you hear that?" Colin asked. Freia nodded and carefully stepped over the mess on the floor to peek out into the hallway
    "There are men shouting down the hall." Freia whispered.
    Colin moved back to his desk and opened the drawer, fishing out a black handled knife. He drew the blade from it's sheath,and flipped it in his hand, "stay here" he said, stepping out of his room and down the hall quietly. he peeked over intime to see the legs of the table sticking out of either side of the entry into the kitchen
    "Don't ever come into my kitchen, and expect not to feel the heat!" Yelled a voice.
    "Mom?" Colin whispered, peeking over the wall in time to see an armored female storm out of the kitchen on a piece of the kitchen table, and vaporize a man on the left, and shifting
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:iconshwiggs-kirths:Shwiggs-Kirths 0 7
Literature
afterlife
"Are you done?" the man in a black suit, complete with a black tie and black leather loafers asked the taller. The past twenty minutes they had been floating on a boat, the liquid below them reflecting a shade of red. And in that twenty minutes the taller boy had been talking non-stop. About his family, his friends, his life. He was not satisfied with anything. Everything he had was not enough. People had never thought of his feelings while he had always thought of others. He complained and complained and mentioned umpteen times on how he had kept everything to himself selflessly.
"Excuse me?" the boy asked, not very happy he was interrupted. But the man had not spoke at all throughout. He only nodded and kept looking out at the red skies, as if waiting for something to happen. Now their boat had floated itself onto an island, where the sand was vacant and the only thing that could lead to anything was a wooden staircase. It went up to a wall, which the trees had covered over the rest
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:iconlynn8596:LynN8596 1 3
Literature
Curious and Trying to be Helpful
Jonathan listened intently at his boss' story. He didn't rightly believe anything about a human/bear hybrid as it was physically impossible. He's a veterinarian; the young man would know these things very, very well. In course of action, he just shrugged Demeter's story off his shoulders before walking toward the very back of the circus. Leaning against a pole, he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. Not thinking much about his health, he lit the cigarette after placing it in his mouth and blowing out smoke. The secondary ring leader just sighed in relief before noticing movement from his peripheral vision. One of Demeter's dolls was wondering around like it was lost. The animal caretaker just huffed before walking over to deal with it. He only stopped when he noticed claw marks going up the back of it. His eyes narrowed as he grabbed the doll before taking it back to his tent. Of course, he managed to have it 'shut' off before he took it back.
"These do not look like bear claws no ma
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Literature
Death in Smoke
The sky is as dreary as it is grey. The dull monochrome brings back memories. Aching memories that still wound and twist cruelly even though years have flown by. I can't help but wonder, on a melancholic day like this, where rain patters gently against the stained windows. If you had never taken that first breath.. Would you have gone under so soon? If you had never taken that first breath.. Would I still be lying here today?
How pitiful! I look across the room at the white strokes painted mechanically onto the slab of wood. It is small, and it lies almost unnoticeable on a table. Is this what you wanted? No one remembers. Everyone is gone. And the only thing left is memories, which fade with startling speed.
Sadness can be addictive. It descends like a beloved friend, and envelops like cold fur. And addicted, so you were. Perhaps I should have tried harder to stop you. After all, what was a bruise or two? What were a few wounds to the heart, when it was burnt black and broken now?
I r
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:iconklei-brandybear:Klei-Brandybear 4 2
Literature
Nightmares
There is an unrelenting plague upon my fragile mind; a fear of the dark and the obscure secrets it conceals. The consuming shadows whisper empty promises, beckoning to my weary consciousness with their malignant tongues. I challenge the coercing temptations of my damnable hallucinations, keeping them at bay with pure inhuman will. Their words are enticing, laced with venomous needles to prick my subconscious thoughts; awaiting the moment that I succumb to their luring poison. With deliberate purpose, they attack my tender psyche and leave behind the toxic sting of their ruthless attacks. I am at the mercy of their double-edged swords; lost within the battle for my suppressed memories, I can no longer sustain my defenses against them. They attack with the remnants of my battered past; those tortuous experiences are their entry into my fragile mind. I am no match to their overwhelming numbers; the swarm of demons who know my every weakness.
Their swift penetration silences my murderous s
:iconPennedinWhite:PennedinWhite
:iconpennedinwhite:PennedinWhite 10 10
Literature
MONDAY
MONDAY
Mrs. Colins was a lonely lady who lived in a small house. Having all her daughters married and left, she found herself obliged to do everything by herself, no matter how difficult it might be. Well, the most difficult ordeal was to go to the market for shopping.
  That day she got up at seven o’clock to prepare herself for the task. After having a tasteless breakfast (the egg was burnt, for her mind was fully occupied with the mission ahead), she went to her room and started looking at her dresses to decide which one to wear, “The white one with big flowers all over is nice, but … it makes old Nancy laugh the moment I turn my back.” Searching again she found another, “The green one is good …but it makes my face look like some kind of a big over-ripped fruit,” sighing she added, “this is what Dora thinks.” She put it down. Then, “My red dress which I wore in the wedding of my second daughter is too much for the ma
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:iconatour:Atour 0 0
Literature
The Children of Summer
    Summer is just around the corner, and nature seems to come to life.  For many children, their backyard's beauty finally returned, not witnessing the beauty of nature since winter's first snowfall.  Imagination was at an annual high, with kids unable to build snowmen or make cakes, pies, and soup with mud.
    Plays and stories within their imaginations were acted out, not realizing how many writers would kill to have such a spontaneous creativity again.  One day, the young boys and girls would run around, playing house.  The next day, they could be in a Medieval kingdom, fighting dragons as knights.  Each day was a different story and a different persona.
    Laughter and shouting filled the summer air.  The sounds of night were filled with wonder as they chased the lightning bugs around.  They lived in their backyards, big and small.  Whether the yard was measured in lots of acres or very little square footage, the kids of summer always found a way to play outside.  They didn't ne
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:iconsparkling-burrito95:sparkling-burrito95 10 3
Literature
For Our Sovereign Land
We march in her defence!
On cours-battaile pour sa defense!
Towards the chaos,
We unite to face our attacker.
Our views be many,
We fight together to protect our home.
We fight for our land!
On battaile pour notre terre-même!
The Red and Blue united,
Yet reds and blues fight.
With hubris they march,
With determination we stand.
Dishonour beyond reason!
La merde!
Our courts lie in ruins
Burned to the ground.
Like dragon's breath is the eagle's cry.
Our homes burn under black smoke.
The fork has blasted a shout.
A warning of what is to come.
I command the sea!
La mers aux moi!
Shannon's cries demand yield.
Her opponent will give it.
She will not be denied,
She will not be beaten.
Our hero beaten, our cause made deep as his grave.
Notre seigneur décédé, notre cause plus fort.
Brock lies dead on the Heights.
We will continue our valiant march.
Our upper and lower state will remain one,
Our cause will remain true.
To the white mansion we march.
To our aggressor we bring to justice.
Long liv
:iconaillin1:aillin1
:iconaillin1:aillin1 2 5
Literature
The Poetry Pot
First we start with some words that rhyme,
And add an amount of alliterations.
Then we set the cooking time,
Add ingredients of different rations.
Now we personify,
The pencil dances across the page.
Bam! Onamonapia identified,
Words of emotion like rage.
And then the haiku,
The first line, five syllables,
And so is this one.
Internal rhymes such as this are hard to miss,
The skill to rhyme gracefully is added with bliss.
Stir the words together with a wooden spoon,
Then let the stew sit in the light of the moon.
Imagery is added, so picture it now,
The sweat gleaming on the chef's brow.
Words, like ingredients for the mix,
The poem is almost ready, one more stanza for kicks.
Then that special something is added,
What makes every poem unique.
[Insert your own lines of ballad]
The poetry stew is ready now, let's eat.
:iconSilosson:Silosson
:iconsilosson:Silosson 8 11
Literature
Save The Animals
The pain in their eyes
The pain in their heart
A reason they die
All for our fashion art
Can't you see their cry
When you batter them to shreds
They don't ever deserve
To be set in death beds
Why would we use animals
To test our cosmetics?
If we want to save them now
We've got to get active
Shame on man kind
For tearing the world apart
We're now number one
On their enemy chart
Why poach for the wild ones?
Who live wild and free
Don't shoot you're large rifle
Please just let them be!
:iconKhloeAlyssa:KhloeAlyssa
:iconkhloealyssa:KhloeAlyssa 11 13
Literature
Welcome To The Internet
Welcome To The Internet
 
Welcome to the internet, young one
The place where it’s normal for “trolls” to roam,
And where an internet thug will “bust a cap in ya’,”
For disagreeing with him on the debate of Russell Westbrook vs. Derrick Rose,
Where we have pseudo-politicians spewing their nonsensical rhetoric,
And if you dare even disagree with THEM?
You’re a “dumbass;” or you’re goin’ to Hell and are a fake (insert-nationality-here, my friend)
And how if they knew you in real life, they’d bring your life to an end,
The place where it’s okay to call someone “retarded,”
Because this isn’t real life, no, this is the internet and they’ll get over it!
One of the greatest creations known to man, most certainly,
But also one that could be used as a weapon,
To the talk of deaths over cyber-bullying, to rumors of the “Illuminati,”
With the internet, we can put a m
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:iconchromeantennae:chromeantennae 44 60
Literature
Salton Sea.
You have made my mind into a Salton sea created quite accidentally.
With a rushing flood of foolish emotion from the river of my own creation.
Just enough to fill my basin created by your constant erosion.
Waters receding I did not have time to build my damn.
 
I hear you still like a saxophone trill, sad and searching for more.
But now I know to block the door and quickly shut my eyes.
Salinity now on the rise with the salty tears I cant help but cry.
 
Now nothing here will ever survive. Endorheic, the poisons become blocked in.
Will you replenish with the sweet drip, drip of your clear ,clean voice? I hear your words again.
With a shoreline growing and silt encroaching I feel I don't have much of a chance.
I know it changes nothing but the water levels in my lake of lost romance.
When you have the choice of a rolling swell or becoming just a dried up well....
 which would you rather be?
 
:iconSinnomangirl:Sinnomangirl
:iconsinnomangirl:Sinnomangirl 4 5
Literature
Homosexuality Bites
They found me slumped over in the school showers
With a towel loosely wrapped around my waist
Scalding hot water was blistering my skin
As I bled from an unspeakable place
A hard-handed teacher dragged me to my feet
With little or no sign of sympathy
For the bruising to my feeble framed ribcage
And the fractures to my identity
I think they all thought that I had it coming
As no one was willing to testify
That the sodomy inflicted upon me
Was something to which I hadn’t complied
Boisterous boys laughing in the corridors
As I shamefully limped throughout the day
Not a thought for the pain that was inflicted
Just worried for what my parents would say
I couldn’t bear it if I saw in their eyes
That I deserved everything that I got
As they are the ones who created my heart
Whether they care for whom it beats or not
So I will take a discriminate beating
If my resolve will help people to see
That I can not be anything more or less
Than the person that I was born to be
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:iconcloudnumber8:CloudNumber8 611 458
Literature
Remember Me
Though seasons may pass and trials change,
Though winds may rise up and zephyrs fade,
Though coastlines may morph and mountains degrade,
Remember me.
Though life rise from ashes and ashes return,
Though forests mature and the cedarwood burn,
Though tides grow from oceans and then downward churn,
Remember me.
Though masonry fails and cities are lost,
Though inventions are formed and then forgot,
Though empires sweep through and then die for naught,
Remember me.
Though friendships are formed and then torn apart,
Though companions step in but so swiftly depart,
Though enemies are made from past friends of one heart,
Remember me.
Though nothing is stable, a cycle is seen,
Each event that occurs is like one prior been,
And though continents split, they surge back to meet,
So for that reason, remember me.
:iconShasta-Rose:Shasta-Rose
:iconshasta-rose:Shasta-Rose 12 9
Literature
It never ends
Dark are the days of the living
No light shed to the sins of my brothers
The people around me have kept me from death
An arm around me holding me tight
They smile at me every day that I draw breath
Thinking that they are helping me to live
It doesn’t matter much anymore
I wake up every day wishing for darkness
It is kept from me just out of reach
When I close my eyes I can almost feel it
I am alive so it seems
But I hold the truth locked away inside me
A secret kept only for myself
Telling no one lest they take it from me
The ones that follow me can never know this thing
The twisted so severe of my heart
I smile and they think everything is ok once more
But it is just a mask for them and nothing else
They don’t know though that even though I still draw breath
That inside I have already committed suicide
I have finally claimed that darkness I so craved
I revel in my find
Numb is my life now
Because the dead do not feel
So when they ask why I do not cry for the dead
I simply
:iconxRedWritingHood:xRedWritingHood
:iconxredwritinghood:xRedWritingHood 2 1
Where Is This American Dream? by CrumbledWings Where Is This American Dream? :iconcrumbledwings:CrumbledWings 51 9

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    Visited here Jun 13, 2017, 9:48:38 AM
    Submitted a deviation on June 16th, 2013
Many many congratulations to all these deviants who got their wonderful works included in 'Deviations of the Week' by LiteratureDomain  The group selects top ten deviations per week from the group as deviations of the week. The top three deviants will be awarded with;
The winner:  :+devwatch: 10:+fav:  3 honest-comments
First runner-up: 8:+fav:  3 honest-comments  
Second runner-up: 5:+fav:   2 honest-comments
Please consider their works once. They deserve a lot of favorites and comments.

InvisibleShe’s invisible.
But she has yet to accept it, even as the sands of time begin to slip from her mind, into the palms of her hands where they continue to escape from her, lost to the ground below her, she can not accept it.
She’ll never accept it.
Nobody knows the girl with green eyes. Green eyes that reflected the Earth in two bright orbs, attempts to be hidden only failing as the girl watches her ‘friends’. Nobody knows the girl with raven black hair that her mother used to comb everyday while she sat by the window, watching the crow’s and ravens pause to look at her. Nobody knows the girl who saved her little brother from the gang that decided they wanted to play. Nobody knows.
Yet she still presses on, still wonders the street whether it’s day or night for she has no care for sleep. At first it scared her, confused her and she would walk up to passer-by’s and scream, never quite knowing how far away she was when she was so clos


Invisible by ~The-Feather-Quill

NineShuffling alone in an alley off some dark city street
With clothes that are dirty and no shoes for his feet
He digs in a dumpster hoping for something to eat
Shooing away rats hiding from the sweltering heat
A small grateful smile crosses his dirt-covered face
(How unbearably pathetic in this dark dreary place!)
He grabs moldy bread and sinks down in his space
Between rank wet boxes and a trash-covered embrace
After only one bite he tiredly drifts off to sleep
And even in soft slumber he does quietly weep
In this place where life is nothing but cheap
And any comfort comes at a cost way too steep
Small hands tremble weakly with his body’s decline
This boy who should be playing in the sweet sunshine
But life is not fair devouring without reason or rhyme
Even for a boy who has only just now turned nine

Nine by *InsanityAdjuster

Perception.Our existence is a mere perception.
We are nothing, and everything simultaneously.
We stroke our egos, to sustain our self containers.
We hope endlessly across the universe, subdued.
Call me crazy, but aren't we all waiting for something... Seeking truth?
My now, is eternal; my this second, is forever.
Our reality is interchangeable, our truth is negotiable.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez  

Perception. by *yours----truly

Guardian AngelsThere are always trials we must face
Whether stumbled upon or taken with grace
It seems that after one, there comes another
Until we must ask for the help of a brother
Guardian angels always stand near
Your cries something they readily hear
Never seeking acknowledgement or praise,
They carefully brighten your dark pathways
Emptiness is theirs to fill
Their embrace will warm the chill
Though you search for help, you cannot see
The guardian angels that know your plea
Someday we will see them clearly
The ones that loved us so sincerely
Enough to give without receiving
Even to the unbelieving

Guardian Angels by ~ErubescentFey


:thumb375670162:
Paper Boats *TheChemistryofGrief


:thumb376074400:

A Bird in the Rain by ~Eo-wyn

TricksterSoft rain pattered the roof, disrupting the peace while two brown eyes stared out the window with growing apprehension.  Jacob would be coming over after work, and he promised that he wouldn't be late this time, the liar.  They were supposed to be having movie night together since last week's plans had been horribly pushed back by her boyfriend deciding that he'd be better off by canceling, but he promised that he'd be here at exactly 8 o'clock this time. There had to be a viable reason for why he was two minutes late, right? It was raining, so traffic could have become extremely nasty out there.
Searching for her phone, Lauren backtracked to the coffee table, snatching it up with further irritation.  She proceeded to call Jacob, wanting to tell him off for not holding up to his end of the bargain like he had promised her. "Jacob, you better pick up or I swear-."
"What's up?"
"Don't you what's up me. Where the hell are you? You said that you would actually be here on tim

An Unexpected Revelation by *falconess22

The JourneyBeneath my skin, my veins pulse with desire
To know why I am here.
As I journey to find the answers to life,
I sail through the monotonous seas
That stretch forever beyond the horizon.
As my ship sails towards the dry land,
Mountains tower before me,
Filling me with both awe and intimidation.
But the mountains are eroding as time passes by,
Into merely fragments of what they once were.
I move my eyes and watch the glaciers
Melt slowly into rivers.
But even though they disappear,
They melt to provide water for all life on this planet.
You could say rivers are created by glaciers for a purpose.
I ponder those mountains and glaciers as the scenery
Changes to a monotonous desert.
Hot sand spreads around my feet,
And the heat drains away my energy.
I travel onward, searching for answers in the heavens above.
I look on as the starry sky stretches before me
Like a blanket concealing what lies beyond
The world as I know it.
The stars merely pins on a map
Beckon me to explore them.
But there is

The Journey by ~Manigran

Love and a Latte.When you work at a café, you meet a lot of people every day. Those who are busy, those who take it slow, those who just come for lunch, and those who takes everything to go. You learn to recognize them, and put faces, and sometimes names, with the orders. A black coffee for the man with the blue tie, a tea with four sugars for the tired mother with her two kids hanging on her coat, A tuna sandwich and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for the student who's always reading, and  cappuccino for the men in suits with their leather briefcases and fancy Italian shoes. Maria from the corner store always orders a pastrami sandwich for lunch, and Peter who works at a nearby office always orders a salad with noodles and cheese cubes. It becomes a closed little world where everyone knows everyone, even if they are strangers on the streets. I've worked here since High-school, and one should think I'd get tired of it, but fact is, I love it. I love to be recognized by the regulars, and to be
Love and a Latte. by ~Ridderkvinden


Theme 21- VacationTheme 21: Vacation
"I can't believe we're actually in India!" Eleanor kept repeating, her eyes bright with curiosity, as the plane touched down in New Delhi. As per usual, she had bagged the seat next to the window, with Florence in the middle and Torah on the aisle. Torah was asleep, but awoke abruptly when the plane landed. Florence spent most of the long flight reading, or also trying to sleep. Eleanor, who found it close to impossible to sleep against the thundering roar of the four engines of the Boeing 747, spent most of the flight wide awake doing codeword puzzles and listening to ex-Eurovision entries on her MP3 player.
Amit leaned in the gap between the seats. "You'd better believe it!" he grinned, eyes burning with excitement. Beside him was Ayşe, who though looked tired, still gave off a lively aura. Next to Ayşe was an unswervingly irritated, and impossibly tired, Yume Tsumuki, who had been kept awake for almost the entire ten-hour long flight by the hyperactive c

Theme 21- Vacationby ~ellymango
All the members of LiteratureDomain, you might obviously have heard of Goodreads :reading:  It is a majestic website for book lovers like us :library:  I too just created an account there. It's wonderful! :excited:  How nice it'd be if all the members in LiteratureDomain family are Goodreads friends of each other! So, lets do it!! You can expand you Goodreads family. Just make your Goodreads link visible by typing it in the comment box. Okay, keep reading, writing, and for sure, keep loving the group.
Here's my link: www.goodreads.com/user/show/20…
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:iconyurixthewanderer:
YurixTheWanderer Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2015  Hobbyist Artist

Good day. I wish to extend this invitation to all those who watched me through all these years. As a thanks for all your DevWatches, views, commissions, trades and requests, I wish to invite you my newly-made group site, based on the ongoing universe that I created through pictures and stories. This invite is to join, participate in, or simply view my group site dedicated to my ongoing fantasy novels, ‘Upon a Star’. If you are interested, check it out here at medierth.deviantart.com

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:icontheanimalsright:
TheAnimalsRight Featured By Owner Oct 3, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
million thanks:) (Smile) Heart 
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:iconshinseinasenshi:
Shinseinasenshi Featured By Owner Jul 7, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks a mil. :)
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:iconshiyahawk:
ShiyaHawk Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I'm hosting a 500 :points: giveaway. Stop by and check out the journal: shiyahawk.deviantart.com/journ…  Also feel free to join. :meow:
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:iconjoeyliverwurst:
JoeyLiverwurst Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
What happened?
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