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About Me Member Shadow Deviant and why exactly do you care?13/Female/United States

Recent Activity Deviant for 6 Months
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Statistics 34 Deviations
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My girl

Your fingers tangle with mine, Small Delicate My hands dwarf yours
And
I'm almost afraid I'll crush them. The music begins,
Low.
Growing louder, Louder, Till it flies Entwining us And we dance You're the only thing that matters I promise you, My girl.
The others have gone, We're alone The music
Is silent. Silent Save for the sound of our feet And the whisper of the wind One dance Just one to
Our song, The music soars in the air Flying Encircling us
With its

^{I have nothing to say . . .}

Random Favourites

UntitledBeen so lost, drowned in the cost The price of saying these things is more then I thought My love of life is gone, but my will to stay alive is still strong My soul pours out, overwhelmed by subtle torture for to long Possessed by self greed, I could never imagine a feeling so wrong At this time I'd much rather be alone But maybe someone close, is just the something I need Loneliness sticks to me like ice on a stone
Come closer, save me from this beast That has turned my sanity into a feast I open myself to you, will you follow me down this dead end street Or will you st Untitled
by ~retr-o-bute

PleaseRage, a memory implanted in my brain so early in my life, its all I can ever think Opposing everything that doesn't immediately agree Retribution, is the ultimate way to watch the ship sink Why do love and hate have to be exactly the same thing
Hell has opened my eyes, and shown me my mistakes Everyday, I now spend watching all the hearts that I've broken Love to hate, everything I say is one less till I face my fate Please help me, I didn't mean to seal my own eyes
Memories hurt some how, I cant live wondering how Eternity no longer feels so long, I've lived to know deaths t Please
by ~retr-o-bute

DustFloating, softly- spinning in the light beams of sunlight, I can just barely reach out and touch them. The hundreds of tiny dust particles, now residing in memory alone, that i used to marvel at as a child after bouncing on the sitting room furniture, forcing them out of their resting places. One, two, three. It is moments like those that make you readjust your perspective. Moments like these that bring back dusty images. . .And see yourself reflected in that insignificant, miniscule speck. Dust
by ~finiteinfinite

fireflywatching through a glass waiting for time to pass memories, from the back of my mind captured in youth, a firefly lights go on and feelings dim heavy thoughts don't feel so thin forgetting why we would ignite captured in youth, a firefly smashed and streaked across the ground light still shining but hears no sound nothing ever felt so right than burning out that firefly under heavy night-time sky the dying flame holds on to life burning out like lightning's cry captured in youth, a firefly firefly
by ~insnpol

_{The wonderful works of wonderful people. Enjoy.}

Browse Favourites

Fave News

173 a kind of magic - Nov 8, 2009
34 11, maybe 13. - Nov 5, 2009
91 until our forever has its end... - Oct 31, 2009
344 Art is Personal - Aug 4, 2009
107 So i herd u liek emotes?? - Volume 40 - Big Issue - Aug 1, 2009
373 deviantART's Birthday Contest: Famous Fella! - Jul 31, 2009
237 Blue colour <3 - Jul 27, 2009
112 "Emotions" contest---Only one month left! - Jul 26, 2009
197 There's something very clever II... - Jul 26, 2009
55 feature: blue - Jul 26, 2009
215 Give me from your heart - Subtext Contest - Jul 24, 2009
123 white - innocent - Jul 21, 2009
26 LITERATURE FEATURE!!! - Jul 19, 2009
8 Contest: Make A Character - Jun 9, 2009
96 Resources for Creating Believable Characters - Jun 5, 2009

deviantID

_{Alrighty. You really want to know? Well, don't say I didn't warn you, 'cause I did.
I am a homeschooled teenage fantasy writer/poet. I'm currently work on two novels. Rebel, those who know me well may also know it as the tale of Sorrow Fleetfoot, and an unnamed novel currently nicknamed Sali After the main character.
The poetry I write is hardly ever 'happy' and 'cheerful'.
I'm an Aries, born in the year of the Rat. My element is fire, and my Native American clan is Thunderbird.
(Yes, I have a quick temper.)
I hide a lot of my emotions.
I am extremely forgetful.
(explains why I don't always thank you after you / I'm working on it.)
If you ever want to draw any of my characters, drop me a note, and I'll give you their descriptions. I would be deeply honoured.}

Devious Info

Current Residence: This particular universe. Which isn't really the one I want to be in.
Interests: Writing. Dragonology. Fantasy. The Invisible world. Redwall, Cultural rebellion.
Favourite movie: Currently - PotC - Harry Potter - Star Wars - LoTR - Most anything with Robin Williams
Favourite poet or writer: Brian Jacques for his Redwall Series
MP3 player of choice: Mine. I think that's rather obvious.
Shell of choice: Seashell!
Wallpaper of choice: I don't like wall paper. Every time one repaints a room one has to take it down.
Favourite cartoon character: Um. . . . Matthias - Redwall, Martin - Redwall,
Personal Quote: . . . . If you're not willing to die for it, what's the point of fighting for it?
Tools of the Trade: Pencil, pens, paper, music, computer, friends. . . Hot chocolate!

Website: http://shadespinner.blogspot.com

Devious Journal Entry

Thu Oct 29, 2009, 5:15 PM

Mood: Stuck
Listening to: Lifeline - Mat Kearney

^{National Novel Wring Month (NaNoWriMo) starts in just a few days. I signed up for my first year a few days ago, and the excitement has already begun.
A sort of to-do list between now and the end of November:
Finish the plot maps and character sheet(s)
Write!
Make it to 50,000 words
Win the bet I have with my friend Ezra. (Who has the "best" novel by the end wins, and the loser has to manage the winner's blog for a week) He's being very cocky about it for some reason. . . .
Post what I've written.

For those of you interested, the novel updates will be on ~shadespinner
For those of you taking part of NaNoWriMo and want to look me up, I'm Scribe Azai.

Sorry for the lack of a poem.}