This folder is for poems that are about space/astronomy, space travel, time travel and for fantasy, mythical and paranormal creatures. If you are writing about paranormal creatures that are graphic in violence please place that in horror.
F33-405 (The Battle Angel) by AlmostWhitey, literature
Literature
F33-405 (The Battle Angel)
[Loading Scripture…]
„The goat shall carry on itself all their sins to a solitary place…“ – Leviticus 16:22
[Synchronizing…]
[Phase 1: Heaven Hath No Fury]
Endless wastelands rule the ground,
The judgement day has passed.
To the scrapyard we are bound,
Where humans die and cyborgs last.
Hunters fight in every street,
We kill and slice and maim.
All is iron, blood and heat,
A battlefield no man can tame.
A city floats above the earth,
Its shadows drown the sand.
To decadence this town gave birth,
Raptured from the dust-filled land.
Dreaming in this endless night,
We’re waiting to arise.
Morning
The Battle of the Tempest (Steampunk) by AlmostWhitey, literature
Literature
The Battle of the Tempest (Steampunk)
I.
We fly through the thunder and lightning,
The aether-gods crossing their arms.
Around us the streams howling frightening,
The airmen are holding their charms.
Our mighty propellers rotating,
The steam engines powering up.
The stormwinds are tearing the plating
And sparks fly from every hub.
The airship is riding the tunnel,
The nimbus clouds devious black.
Before us, we're seeing a funnel,
Above it, the sky pirates flag.
Our captain is yelling his orders,
The motors are drowning his words.
We're reaching the aether storms borders,
Followed by fast iron birds.
II.
Their gunners are opening fire
And screeching the sirens resound.
We ra
I know how to embrace
Together strength and grace
Together like we dance
In a magic scent
I let my dragon touch
Me twice as much
As gentle as a flower
He is pure power
He has a lot of fire
He does never tire
And I felt so good
As I understood
We could for real
Make this deal
In darkness fly we may
As ordinary we slay
And in every flight
We feel so bright
Even though we hide
Our magic shine
That is so fine
It's a room so very strange
Where it's all out of range
There is mirror on the wall
Floating but it doesn't fall
And you could panic
With those mechanic
Things that kinda look
At you, they could shook
Your confused mind
And when you find
That writing up there
You'll wonder where
Am I happened to be
Is there a way to flee
You must strike a pose
To have little dose
Of something not to mention
That belongs to another dimension
Just call me 15, because 15 is the number of my prison cell (Cage 15) and the number when I'm in the lab (specimen 15). At first I didn't like that name because it reminds me that I'm just a prisoner of this silent prison or a specimen for their experiment.
I want my real name to be unknown in this journal just for safe keeping. Writing is my life here in this cell but, when I' m not writing, my friend, Cocky the cockroach, is here to visit me.
Cocky the cockroach has been my best friend ever since I was here in this holding area. A prison cell for the freaks like me, but Cocky said I was just special like nature preserved for its uniquenes
Dear reader,
It's been a one week, and I didn't write anything. It is because I was very tired and sick in all of those experiments on me. Needles here and then, I was practically naked in the cold room. The lab was everything white with people wearing white suit that basically covered their whole body, even their faces were hidden and totally all black. I wonder what is inside those suits. Are they still humans. It's been long since the techno war. I'm here now for almost 50 years and they always did the same things over and over again or once every three yeas. They will stop then come back again with a totally new theory but still I'm not
Countless men in history have dreamed of becoming the man that I am today. Sacrificing everything for their own personal gains. The fools. They could never be me. Oh, but how they've tried, some coming closer than others, though not without my permittance. They remain with the hope that they could one day replace me as I string them along like puppets. After all, all men, even I, wish to be challenged. Yes, I must always have them believe in the beauty of possibility, no matter what the truth may be.
Therefore, I believe that I have some duty, some obligation to myself, to keep the hope alive in every man. Each man must feel within his heart
It's mysterious
how an invisible,
massive,
spinning black hole
does exist in the universe.
If you were to cross the event horizon
the force exerted on you
should be impossible.
You are
stretched,
then piled up
in a single point at the center.
How this central singularity works
might form a bridge
to another Universe.
They don't even play soccer over there.
It's a freaky fact,
but all within a logical framework.
Quantum mechanics,
general relativity
develop a new theory:
string theory.
Really, really small strings
that vibrate
in 10 or 11 dimensions
vibrate
in a wealth of different patterns
like