http://slow.writerscafe.org/Demyra The original writings of author Demyra en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776010102 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The night was warm, nature was alive and thriving-slivers of moonlight beamed through the thick forestry overhead, and as the breeze caused the leaves to sway, it almost seemed as though the earth danced beneath me.  The crickets meshed well with the 'pitter patter' and rustling of the ecosyst.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/1811460/ A moment of honesty? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/1411131/ Working title http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/1371984/ Random late night thoughts, With minimal to no editing. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/1219964/ Another upbeat one. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/1009380/ I'll light a candle for the light that you have lost,and though I know it's not enough, see the costof living is to die-the cost of breathing is to try,the cost of trying is to fail-I mean you well...We bought much more than we could ever hope to sell,too naive to know our value, jaded retailtaylore.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/1009379/ My mind fell asleep in the back of the jeep,and I am barely alive, but I'm trying to drive.The world's morals died, while I never tried,and sentients lied, with mouths open wide.You cannot fathom the immensityof the f**k I do not give,With a self destruct propensity,and no viable reason to live.I ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/825046/ Humanity, the potential profanity of everything,insanity, the resulting emnity of being.Planning is what happens as life passes you by,but at the very least, you know what to do before you die.Curriculum, detrimental idiom of existence,Manufacturing mentality, faking our persistence.reticulum, preco.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/823447/ In times of turmoil, be optimistic. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/808083/ A song I wrote...not too sure about it yet. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/784997/ My same old stuff really I suppose... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/757151/ I can see the end coming-my life has flashed before my eyes,And I know that it wasn’t worth living.I fell away from the world, and though I put forth my besttries,I have failed and the effort wasn’t worth giving. Termites eat at shackles, as ants tear into the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/679665/ I had a story I was gonna work into a novel, trying something a little different-more science fiction like. But I just ran out of gas for it and didn't even think about it or any writing for a while. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/673463/ I don't like the media sometimes. Blah. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/673456/ Desire is a doubleedged sword, ambition is folly,And we've been buriedwith brimstone and holly.For every actionthere is an equal, opposite reaction,and so too is lifebut an oxymoronic fraction.And so too the lawsthat govern conscious,crippled from birthto be immoral a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/673453/ The dream dissipates, and a simple state of conscious remains,a vessel of empty ideology and cynic's ambitions entrapped,confined to skin and bones, and all that this existence retains,is the will to cease existence where purposes have overlapped.Humanity is gone, and aspirations are as superficial .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/568595/ You f*****g useless drunk. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/452776/ The air is toxin for the bulls and the oxen,cattle slaughtered by psychology. Introverted soliloquy, complication of our own annihilation,Self centered philosophy, a circumspect revelation.The basic facts-we live then die, and there's no coming back,I see the world in seperate sha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/434563/ A single cell animated through organisms,festering into many, the peak of innocence.Conceived through flesh walls of prisms,edifying life of white light for worldly dissonance. From sin comes a new saint,Within death's taint,It's the remnants of a dead star,that make who we ar.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/424372/ The world is ending,doom is impending,and yet the flowers still blossom.innocence is dying,earth itself is crying,and yet the flowers still blossom. We take in the sorrow, pain and hurt,Happiness is a casualty in everyday life.And we forget the ones who held our hand,rather .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/397360/ Savior to humanity, damned by morality... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/377700/ I've never found an answer for any of my questions... maybe I was asking all the wrong things... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/362663/ Recycle the end, and it never comes... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/362661/ Thorns and flames... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/362659/ Unfinished... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/362658/ My life in angsty verse. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/346535/ Only when your eyes are closed... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/346527/ My makeshift family, silhouettes in my peripheral,misrepresentations of acceptance, superficial and ephemeral...Blood was thicker than water, yet sand filled this place,and when we flip through the photo album, I'm just another face.  Blood and broken bones remain, scars that k.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/346522/ I am. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/306603/ Frozen In My Chest, it still tries to beat... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/306601/             As I walked into the door I finally collapsed on the couch, tired with the day.  Even the cold, solid marble floor would’ve made a great bed for me then. I was so tired…traffic duty was f*****g hell.  I&rs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/306588/ Angelic extravagation for the eyes of a mortal man,Your elegant inspiration a respite to an intricate plan.Beautiful red petals dance before me, forlorn,And slowly, but surely I catch the glimpse of a thorn.The iris of this rose burns, and the stalk surely bleeds,You’ve suffered just.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/299111/ My angel, the misunderstood misanthropist... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/299107/ The whispers of an abandoned morality still pull in the back of my mind... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/299105/             I closed her door as she got in the car for her, and as I got in, she spoke irritably. "You know, you took that way too serious..." "What're you talking about?" I feigned ignorance, choking back a smirk.&q.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/293262/             My hair again covered a point of discontinuation, where my makeup less face would show.  Waking up that morning felt entirely different, it felt like everything was ending.  In truth, all that changed was to be Alexia&rsquo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/293260/             I looked in the mirror, and saw how my makeup had run down my face.  My hair was the same color her's was...my makeup had run, only the way I always painted it though, and smeared.  I looked almost exactly like her.  I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/293259/             A flicker of silver, and a rush of crimson.  Was it for the better?  If I didn't 'die' that night, would I still have been so miserable?  Would I have ever met her?  Why do I even bother with memories and question.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/293258/ "There's no need, I gotta car.  I'll take you home."             She smiles, but her eyes seem to say 'thanks' with a hint of sarcasm, with a trailed off 'prick'.  We help the stumbling hulk to the door, and let him .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/293257/ 2) A Moment's Reprieve             I skipped school, and headed home, torn between being both afraid, and being pissed off.  I was afraid of what else she could know about me, and pissed that she had the audacity to read me.  .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/293255/             Another dull day...I look in the mirror again; the gash was still bleeding, just above my left eye.  I wipe it away with my hand, and my mascara wipes away, too.  I push some hair back over my face to cover the wound, and I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/293253/ My biggest and most personal project http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/293250/ I'm there when you need me, or so I thought. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/273090/ The end? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/269800/ You're nothing to her, anymore... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/264802/ Doesn't Matter http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/260015/ It's not over yet. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/255167/ Me and Dreamguardian's collaboration poem. I'm red, he's blue. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/252057/ We all fall down... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/241038/ A song I wrote recently...a lot softer than my older songs... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Demyra/238607/