T-kun Unusual Wordsmith III

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Amun

He lingers through the minds, leading them of how he thought fit. Wondering about the land by others feet. Seeing through their eyes. Controlling them as puppets, hanging by thin, breakable, clear twine. A human-like god he is. How? It’s not clear of how or why he does, for his name alone means what he is. Be that he’s proud of it or not. The Hidden One is who is he.

Known far and wide of the desert land of Egypt, fingering the sands in small trails of where he had traveled through others. Tasting sweets and bitters along the way. For a man of the havens, humans held a tender toll to him. More or equal to those he had with his immortal family.

Yet, those puppet strings, had to be thicker, stronger, and visible to them. For that if the lower gods and goddess dare themselves to become something he, the lower Numen dub, Amun. Leaving him, his first name, giving by the humans, The Hidden One.

For those who question his name, not the dub god name, his name given by the humans. Of that, why be named that, if you are so well-known?

Amun, only known from rumors of humans who thought he came down from the sky and grace their land in his golden light, before soon by a blink of an eye, was he gone. By the immortal family of his, talk exchanged by one another, mostly those smaller minions of the sun, seen him and shared words. Short words, but words none the less.

Facts show little of what Amun did before his ends neared. Truth be told, gods can’t die, but that doesn’t means they can’t give up the right for another to take over. When his finally moments came, so did little of the thoughts of how others would handle without him. He left words for them to repeat incase they forgot the reason being there, that there is no reason to stop when he never did.

He didn’t stop being the keeper of the Holy Throne, he didn’t give up the other Spirits nor the humans, he didn’t stop being The Hidden One. Amun step down and gave a the throne to someone of a fresh mind of ideas and plans.

The throne, to Amun, was going to those who kept a level head and took everything in. If they didn’t just the throne as he thought, a new body would be place in it and trial the same way. When that one finally came, he back to where Amun enjoyed doing the most, being The Hidden One, watching as time went by for his humans and immortal family.

Happy and angry of the choices that came by without much a thought. But thou never step in, for he wanted them to grow. Amun had to say hidden, wondering about by others unknowingly and bow his head that his world of flourishing sand and sky kingdom will do just fine without him.

Only when they world is ending and the words he spoke before are lost and need a strong reminder of what they did before everything went black.

The End.

Anubis Read the rest of this entry →

Ammit

Walking beast of the lands of the dead. Punishing souls who have sin from petty thefts to murder and rape. With fast of a lion to strike fast, shocking the prey into stillness, having the weak scent of fear to die and sadness that it wouldn’t be over as how those sharp claws and teeth sink deeply that was once seemed as pure skin.

A demon face of a reptile is thy face, long with pointed teeth to be seen. Able to make a mighty force to break the spirit body in half. Spilling the blood like a river from her mouth. Keeping in mind that the bitter iron will pass soon, until then, soaked her mouth and being, in sign that it was far from over.

If so the spirit, once pure skin, now tainted of its sin, ripped apart. Skin could be seen as fleshly ribbons spread about her underworld as confetti. New found color of a red, matching that of a fine gem. Organs of all, are to seem as thus the following words: mashed to be the kinship of paste. All left from the torture and to be used later on for Ammit has she saw fit; the eyes.

Where now her beast womb of a clear water animal, wide and brim full of pureness. She’ll swallow the blinded eyes of past fate, cleanse them, carry them until the next river of a new rising sun, would she let her child go, following willing and carefree, to the path that is unknown to them, but still see a new way of being something different from another life, that couldn’t be the being’s before, but that light looks to wonderful to see it as a dream.

It came all of a sudden, with little warning. The slamming of a door, loud enough to wake the dead, went to an deaf ear where the room had a lone worker, writing with no care.

“I hope you’re happy for yourself. For what you have done?”

No reply was given.

“To think less with half a braincell and to go do that. I thought happiness is what you wanted? Why turn away from that? So, soon as well?”

The person who slammed the door, moved closer to where the desk was. Minding of the other, who was still working.

“Are you just happy in this cramp, pityful room, with a small lamp as you’re only light? Is that it? Nothing else? What kind of person are you, to go to such lenghs with no care?”

“Keep little in mind of trueily matters for me. Those pestering feelings to care, only get one so far.”

“Yet, you looked to oddly be on cloud’s good nature from what I saw.”

“Those feelings are as a drug. They also wear off in a matter of time.”

The other looked to his brother is sadness.

“Don’t blame me for this mistake.”

“It can’t be a mistake, if was never seen as a mistake. I could have told you that, dear brother.”

A sigh was given. The faint scratches of writing took up most sound around them.

“I’m going to miss them. But I really should be saying it about you?”

“Can’t miss it. If it was never there.”

The standing brother couldn’t take that, in what felt as what rage and pain would fill, mix together. He slammed his hands down on the desk. Adding to what a small child would do next, in which, knocking all the paper work on to the ground.

“What has happen to you?! Damn it, all I just want to know? Why push them away? And now me. Lucas, please, tell me why?”

The other brother slowly looking to the spilled papers. With no thought to reply to his brother, got to his feet and restacked the papers back on to his desk. Feeling the glares of his brother.

Yet, Lucas made no dare to look back. For again, it was pointless to do so.

Somehow those, found the words to say. “Please, Jackson, leave me alone. It’s all I want now. What matters I made with my love and future, are no deals with you. Go home. I’m sure your children want you there to set up the tree?”

Jackson rubbed his unknowing how to sudden tired eyes.

“Very well. I’ll see you afternoon, tomorrow. I . . . ”

“I choose you don’t. Goodbye, Jackson.”

“Fine. Merry Christmas.” Ending with him leaving out the door to leave his brother alone.

On his way home, stopping by a few places on the way, clearing the mind really. On whatever he was going to say when he got back. Jackson finally made it home. Upon seeing his wife in the kitchen making dinner. And his children nowhere in sight.

“You’re brother being a handful again, dear?” His wife asked, listen to how he came into the house, soon having her being hug from behind, and Jackson laying his head on her shoulder.

“You have no idea.” Saying with leaving her a kiss on her cheek. Moving away to lay against the counter. Arms cross as was in thought loud. “I’m worrying for him. It’s at the point I don’t know who he really is anymore. But with what the doctor said, I can’t do anything but go along with it.”

“He’ll get better.”

“No alone. Even I know that. I was able to reach Edith’s sister. She’s doing fine. Despite what my brother did. But she said it would be better for the baby’s health if she was not around him.”

“What did Lucas say to her, to make her leave? You were gone for awhile.”

“Heavens if I’ll get the full story. She’s not hurt or anything. Just some spiteful words between should be for young love. Not these two.”

His wife just rolled her eyes to that.

“You did go see the doctor?”

“Si, I did. Though the answers given could have been better.”

She just nodded back. Having Jackson set the table. Food ready. And the loud stomping of children from up stairs started to slowly familiar itself as if it was thunder.

“Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be bothering him some more.”

Again, the wife only nodded.

The following day, Jackson headed out. Having a small smile as he saw his two sons and daughter, resting soundly by the colorful dressed up tree. Worn out by the long hours it took, and just sleeping around the living room, not daring to walk up the stairs for bed.

Recovering them once more with blankets given last night. Off he went to start an early day. In means to get ready for anything brother was about to throw his way.

Upon soon reaching the house, a few minutes spare for a precise afternoon. Walked up the drive way and knocked on the door. When not getting an answer back. Pulled out a key from his pocket to let himself in.

“Lucas, you up? Or is your lazy ass still in bed?”

Stepping quickly through the house. Not finding his brother anywhere. All his things still in place.

“Lucas?” He called out, trying the backyard, towards the greenhouse.

The door left ajar. Jackson open the door more to let himself give a peek in. Smiling softly when finding what he was looking for. Walking in slowly, taking each step with care.

“Lucas, you can’t keep hiding here when things get to rough. I’m only to say this once.” Jackson said, kneeling down to the ground, in a way to be eyelevel with the other, before saying. “No matter how thing illness plays with your mind, I still want you back. Edith needs you, you’re going to be a father, Lucas. And I like a small family moment, that doesn’t result to this. I gave you time to set this in before. And I still do. Understand?”

Jackson patted the stone slate in a comfort matter.

“I know this world is hard for people like us. Don’t think I haven’t tried to hide away from it. It’s only a matter of time if my children start acting this way. This is something you should worry as well.”

A small play of silence filled the air.

“Un demonio del infierno sólo puede encontrar tanta alegría en el mundo. Ciegamente saber si quieren o no. Sólo se da una segunda oportunidad de vida. Úsalo sabiamente y no yo, quienes dan I, los puros que perdimos hace mucho tiempo viven.”

A whisper was heard.

“I will see you and Edith hopeful at my house than for dinner. We’ll get by brother. We always have. Let’s not fall as our people before us.”

The End.

—–Side Note—-

Translation(s):

Si – – – Yes

Un demonio del infierno sólo puede encontrar tanta alegría en el mundo. Ciegamente saber si quieren o no. Se produce sólo una segunda oportunidad de vida. Úsalo sabiamente y no yo, eso, recuperaremos que perdimos hace mucho tiempo vivo. – – – A demon of hell can only find so much joy in the world. Blindly know whether they want to or not. Only a second chance of life occurs. Use it wisely and not me, that I, will get back that we lost long ago live.

A fan fiction poem based on the 2004 Phantom of the Opera

World of rare livingness and pernicious.

Filled with music sung by a sweet angel.

Led through the lands of life by a demon.

A demon hidden behind a mask.

Quick feet pattered through the opera.

Leading the little angel to the havens of greatness.

The little angel dubbed Christine.

Loved dearly by the demon, the phantom.

Christine, oh Christine fare as a china doll.

Dainty feet dance about the stage.

Hands gracing the air with signs of praises.

The phantom, oh evil eye phantom, be kind to thy angel.

Do not twine . . .

Do not scare . . .

Do not glare . . .

Do not lie . . .

Thy little angel has done none wrong.

For she a poor soul, is vastly shown lost gratefulness.

She’s has been twine, left alone soon late.

She was left in scares of others.

She has felt the glares of others.

Lies have burned her ears.

Poor little angel.

Phantom, please oh please, hear spoken words.

Guide her.

Care for her.

Teach her.

For when the angel has grown, let her fly away.

Into a far better world.

Loosen thy grip and let her be free.

Phantom, wise ghost of the farce, let her grow.

For there’s other angels, just as young Christine.

Do not range on only one for the wise you have.

For now, this is fin.

A fan fiction poem to Tom and Jerry

It’s a endless game they play.

For that it’s in their natures.

Cat and mouse.

Out witting one another to no ends.

To where nearing one will win and another fail.

Cat wins, dinner awaits.

Mouse wins, another day to see the day.

At the ends of his tail.

From views of others, would see them as wagers.

Time well spend on them.

For that it must in their DNA.

Tom and Jerry, friend and foe.

Wits and joke, never go away.

For that is how the game is played.

Cat and mouse.

Catch and run.

One winner, one loser.

Oh, how one will enjoy one to become the ladder of the joke.

If one is evoked enough.

Right Tom, Jerry?

Cat and mouse.

Longest game and very well played.

A fan fiction poem to Derpy

Bubbles, bubbles.

Large and small.

Found everywhere!

In the sky; those clouds look funny that way.

In the bath; also, squeaky clean!

On the ground, in the air, on the tongue.

They don’t taste good but are pretty.

Finding them on my rump!

Mama said they mean what I am.

I don’t what she meant, but my friends sure know!

Pinkie says you can find them at parities.

You do!

Rainbowdash said once the skies can make bubble rain!

Well no, not really, she was being something is like a joke.

She made it rain though, Twilight Sparkle help!

With magic, that sometimes looks like bubbles.

Fluttershy told me once that bubbles can be good and bad.

I haven’t met a bad bubble yet, will it start a fight?

If it does, Applejack will send it away.

Bubbles, bubbles.

Bring joy and wonder just by being itself.

Maybe that’s what mama meant?

I sure hope so.

Bubbles, bubbles.

Pop!

Too Many

Keep it short,

Keep it sweet.

Drag it on,

You lose your aim,

And become a puzzle no one wants to play.

White lies cover what is blank.

Truth is a punch every word said.

Too short,

The best there is?

Too long,

Be there a way around it?

Questionable every say there!

Too keen on falsehood and genuineness words.

Brought soon misunderstanding,

A likeness all can relate on.

And be shown with fear.

That is just how things are,

Sadly not true but fill with lies,

Where holes are tend to be found.

Too wrong to be right,

Too right to be wrong,

A cube of six colors,

Six sides,

And one path it will make.

If one wishes to do so,

Not for I,

Nor you if you think not or do,

Too many answers will lead,

For a one lone question there is.

I would like to say I am very sorry for the video not coming in. I was really excited to do it. But, it’s done and facts show there is no video coming, no need to linger on it. But I am not letting those questions that people found time to ask. I am still going to answer them, just not the way I promised to do. Read the rest of this entry →