Being the literary genius that I am(Suck that Kalas d: ) I need a location to showcase my writing, whether it be a cascading wall of text from a novel, delicate and flowery poetry, or perhaps a tantalizing short story. Of course I enjoy dancing my fingers across my keyboard to construct these masterpieces and I hope you too enjoy them

If you don't like them just lie to me ...

Will update regularly and once spoiler tags are added.
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One day in my dreary and weary life,
it dawned on me like a drunken tattoo
scarred as if done by a surgical knife;
walk day and night to find a trace of you.
And so I did; I walked and searched for love
until my feet bled and the gray sky cried
as if my sorrow stirred angels above,
but with these angels my only hope died.
For I found not a trace of you; nothing,
though I did find some tarnished silverware
resting in a strangely placed fairy ring
along with a plastic orange, grapes and pear.
If some day I find you, we’ll have supper
and on that day my search will be over.
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This is a story, of which I assure is quite true,
In a grove of flowers was a lady, whom I was fond of.
All year round, these flowers did bloom
Almost as if nourished by a feeling we call love,
And so it may come to no surprise, our feelings were true,
After all, there was heaven in her eyes, beauty greater than in heaven above.

You may see nothing in her, at which I find untrue,
For in her I see everything, this lady I was fond of.
Perhaps I am a bit haughty to presume
That our feelings were stronger than any other love,
Despite the minuscule chance this is true,
I look at the stars and find solace from up above.

To say all the angels in Heaven were jealous was true,
For she had all the qualities of perfection, this lady whom I was fond of.
But just as a flower dies in winter we were doomed
For she fell ill and nothing could save her, not even our love,
And on the day her eyes closed forever, I knew it to be true,
I died too that day and everyday after until I’d go to Heaven above.

We would be together in Heaven, at least I thought this true,
An alcoholic man with no ambition and a lady, whom I was fond of.
So it was in my sullen and dark gloom
I drank poison which filled my heart now empty without love,
And I sat quietly, praying that death would be true,
And slowly I slipped away, my soul going to the beyond up above.
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Little forest fairy with messy hair.
Flowers woven through her billowing mane,
When compared to Mab, she is far more fair.
Her beauty gained through no means of arcane.
In her lies power, wisdom, and courage.
Pure of heart and clear of eyes she buzzes,
Moving with the wind, dancing as a midge.
With the moon she whistles, a lovely tis.
Clap your hands for I truly do believe.
I need not fairy songs or fairy rings,
Those who have not seen her, surely must grieve.
For her brilliant presence does bow kings.
I am no king, but I do indeed bow.
Her beauty, my mind cannot fathom how.