Story cover for La poésie du cœur by CoquelicotLife
La poésie du cœur
  • WpView
    Reads 93
  • WpVote
    Votes 11
  • WpPart
    Parts 17
  • WpHistory
    Time 12m
  • WpView
    Reads 93
  • WpVote
    Votes 11
  • WpPart
    Parts 17
  • WpHistory
    Time 12m
Ongoing, First published Oct 26, 2017
Cette "poésie du cœur" ne sera pas une fiction comme les autres, ce sera des petits textes que je créerais, assez triste et qui parlent d'eux même. Je vous prierez donc de ne pas les prendre ou alors de m'en parler et de citer l'auteur, merci. Je vous mets un texte pour que vous voyez à quoi ça peut ressembler.
"Marches à n'en plus pouvoir, marches sans aucune destination précise. Laisses toi juste guider par ce rêve d'évasion et marches sans ne plus jamais t'arrêter. C'est ça, la beauté de la liberté. "
Bonne lecture.
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The Twisted Tales by LuciferKreuger
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A place where true love expires, good people get fired and beings are nothing but dust. Where stalkers are heroes, society makes zeroes and madness is not in the crust. Some people are killers, and that's just the pillars of what is essentially rust. When you feel you are mad, but that isn't so bad in a world that is oh so unjust. They'll kill you by car, or from quite afar in a world where all life is fleeting. Don't try to protect, you'll just end up wrecked, for you know their hearts are not beating. They'll kill you my sweet, and not drop a beat, for my story is only just heating. Power means all, even more for the small, but power has a habit of retreating. The bodies mount up, many lives will breakup, as I'm here to just tell a story. Don't look in the hill, though it is quite a thrill, I've heard it can get quite gory. Don't play with the heart, and don't think you're too smart, or you'll die with none of the glory. All are mad from the start, but you played your part, in the world of pure purgatory. Alas look a ghost, be careful you're not toast, you must want to see what I see. Society is ruthless, protection is fruitless, for in madness is when you are free. Perfection is dead, from the wounds we all bled, a cruel fate we did not foresee. While outsiders are safer, if only by a wafer, you can still hear them utter a plea. Now my story is frightening, but oh so inviting, so come now and give it a whirl. I can promise some danger, so don't be a stranger, watch now - we will see it unfurl.
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ONC 2024: In college, it was a case of wrong place/wrong time. Eight years later, they have a second chance. But will they take the leap? ___ Prompt 14: "My muse, believe me, waiting for you has been a form of freedom." ___ Excerpt: "Don't look back." Ian stares at me through the screen with his dark, intense gaze. "Don't long for all the things that might have been. Don't chastise yourself for the decisions you've made." For a moment, his words render me silent. "Appreciate all those little indentations that make you who you are," he says with a tender expression. "And remember your superpower." "What superpower?" "Let yourself dream again." A tender smile crosses his features. "Focus that intense drive of yours on the future like you used to do." He's right. For so long, I've been living in survival mode. One foot in front of the other. Stuck in this nightmare, I haven't been able to see any other way forward. Until now. "You're free now," he says, "to make better choices that will make you truly happy." For a moment, I let my mind take me wherever it wants to go. Right now? It wants to be in Boston, beside him. But can I leave everything behind?