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Eternal Engine: Ten-Song 01
Sing the song that no one will hear, sing of the world as no one knows. Sing of me, and sing of you.
Ten steps and we repeat the process, the song isn't anything but the whispers of the wind, and the actions of what we do is nothing more than a dance, wonderfully in sync with the music we can't hear.
Ten songs… Ten songs populate this strange device that's always at hand for me. Ten songs and I can't understand any of them.
Menu: Playlists: Ten-Song…
Ten-Song… my name… my life…
The first movement comes into a sick rhythm, it sends me back to a time where my cares were few and my joys were many, a time before memory, a time before hatred and love…
SONG 01: Fake Creation
The sound of a million lies comes dangerously into play. Shattered voices that speak nothing and usher themselves back into the void. A clap of sound and a sputtering play comes in and out of focus like a heartbeat, rhythmic and disdainful, the sound of a cacophonous monster screaming out into everything.
Eternal Engine: Samurai
Few remember. I stood watch and guarded those whom bore nothing to this world. Laughter plays across my mind like some sorrowful symphony. Children, their parents, dancing in a field as free as anything, but confined by me… I watched them, guarded them. I kept order.
I protected them in their beautiful prison. Flowers grew in the eastern hills, and all along the wall grew vines that bloomed with white flowers. The houses stood and the setting sun was always with us with the gentle breeze. They laughed and played, and partook of a life that was devoid of meaning, but always fulfilling.
It is ironic that I discovered this place. No memory of my own, but I discovered what allowed others to remember. This green place here, standing out as a wonderful ring among the dead, where rot and death is kept in the center of love and singing. Sweet sounds and smells would fill the constantly dim air, and all knew of such wonderful things.
My life started then, but never was it my own. I knew early a
Eternal Engine: Rotting BridgeI have wandered far and abroad. I have seen the mountains, rivers, and so much. All of it has taken me here. However here I can not pass, I can not go any further than where I stand. I see many wander over it, back and fourth, here and there, some even stand upon it, gazing out at the brink of what I could only dream of seeing.
I can not pass this bridge though. Here at the end of my journey, I come to this, a chunk of metal, mortar, and cables, swaying just ever so gently in the wind. The foundation is made by men, the ones who now stumble over it so carelessly. Its meaning is to transport those whom built it over a span of water.
I have awoken here years ago, with no mind, no name, and no dreams to even call my own. I was as though nothing, a wraith of flesh bound to a careless search of a desolate place for nothing. No propose, no reason, an unrelenting meandering march towards nothingness.
But a single memory remains, and is now compounded by the fear of discovery. A slender hand r
Eternal Engine: Fields of FireThe day the world stopped spinning, it was the day we all forgot what and why. Im not sure who I was, but something of me remained, some fundamental part that was begging to be known for some reason.
The dream repeats each time I awake
Im standing in a field of swaying grass, so soft and swift is the movement that it is as though a sea of jade colored silk. The wind pushes cool air through my hair and it seems as though I am at one with the world that birthed me.
Then as I open my eyes after a stupefied daze, I see a wall of fire marching towards me. Standing far away from me in the dying jade is a woman. I yell things that dont sound like words. My mouth makes a series of clicks and beeps like a machine gone wrong, and as I scream it turns to static.
No matter how far I run each time, she stands there looking at me with a smile, and then the fire claims us all. She is bathed in gold and ruby as all around me turns to ash. For some reason though, after the heat
Cobwebs in the CornerIt's real to me, it is, but the skittering of hands and teeth isn't just in my head now…
There's a spider that resides in the corner of my bedroom. Nestled perfectly where wall and wall meet roof, its own little corner of perfection and cobwebs.
Is that what it's really like to be free? Just to find some hole to reside in…
It sits there knowing that little prey will stumble into its abode, yet it still rests, as though awaiting something it has foreseen. Does it think it self a prisoner in my domain, or does it think of me as something less?
I know it's not there, but as my head rests on a soft pillow I here the movement of small feet along my wall, as fast as I turn to look at them I see nothing but cobwebs.
Nothing is here.
I know the spider that once inhabited those webs died long ago, a victim of its own judgment. Still I hear footsteps. Rampantly tapping and thumping along my wall.
It is funny how the sick rhythm of it seems to lull me into something close to sleep, but as this mi
ShelterThe men came and brandished about flame and guns
They started to kill all our daughters and sons.
Someone talked behind our backs and now we fear
For the souls lost we can only shed a tear.
But as the sun started to rise over the hills
We could see ourselves unhindered by their pills.
The world they gave us was not the one we were born into
Still watching the sun before us we knew we'd make it through.
As war and suffering cover the earth
There are still a few willing to celebrate birth
Knowing that this is what life is worth.
Our home was destroyed by the wrath of our gods
But we rebuilt it in spite of all the odds.
The people that never gave a hand and never offered aide
They became the ones that have reason to be afraid.
They offered us futility, despair and no hope
All because they were the ones unable to cope.
They brought us nothing but useless laws and taxes
Holding to corruption like our heads held to axes.
As our world became filled with poverty and violent men
We sat together
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More