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Literature Text
The child walked along the road
A petite figure in a baptismal gown
A red ribbon tied 'round his neck
With wide eyes of pure azure
I came upon him as I walked
Along that same dusty road
And he asked if I knew him
I shook my head, wondering
What parent would let their child
Roam free as if he weren't in danger
He looked at me with sad eyes
And asked his question again
And again I gave the same answer
So he took me by the hand
To lead me to the truth:
A playground with a rusty slide
And creaky swings of old
It was then that I remembered
Sliding down and swinging high
Laughing and enjoying life
I turned to him, the tiny child
But as I did he turned to dust
And I mourned as I did before
For the child lost in time
Lost in an adult's world
A petite figure in a baptismal gown
A red ribbon tied 'round his neck
With wide eyes of pure azure
I came upon him as I walked
Along that same dusty road
And he asked if I knew him
I shook my head, wondering
What parent would let their child
Roam free as if he weren't in danger
He looked at me with sad eyes
And asked his question again
And again I gave the same answer
So he took me by the hand
To lead me to the truth:
A playground with a rusty slide
And creaky swings of old
It was then that I remembered
Sliding down and swinging high
Laughing and enjoying life
I turned to him, the tiny child
But as I did he turned to dust
And I mourned as I did before
For the child lost in time
Lost in an adult's world
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Hallucinations: USUK Oneshot
Arthur woke up gasping for breath, swimming in his bedsheets and a pool of his own sweat.
It took him a moment to ensure that he wasn't still trapped in his mind.
The hallucinations were always so real. They were vivid and pertained to all of Arthur's five senses. The flames that licked away at the layers of his skin, the sharp fingernails that raked across his body, drawing blood; the white-hot knives sinking their razor-sharp teeth into his arms, intent on lacerating him, and the short stretch of rough rope, handled by unseen hands, pressed against his windpipe, slowly causing him to turn blue with asphyxiation...
Arthur shuddered again,
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England and America - Lullaby for a Stormy Night
America x England Lullaby for a Stormy Night
The wind howled and the lightning flashed as the thunder roared in the dark filled with unknown sights and sounds and feelings. Meanwhile, shivering underneath duvets and blankets and pillows and soft toys was America. Tears welled in his eyes and fell pitter-pattering into his small, shaking hands in synchronisation with the rain hammering against the rooftop, which was making some alarming creaking sounds, almost as if threatening to give way altogether and crush the small boy. He let out another whimper as the storm growled and hissed at him angrily, the cold draught seeping in through c
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PruCan // Who I Am
"You don't have to go."
"
I couldn't disagree more."
Tears rolled down fair cheeks, creating faint tracks that caught the reflection of the car's headlights. "You really don't, though. I'm here. Your life is here. Everything we've worked for is here. Why do you need to, then?"
The man ran a hand agitatedly through colorless hair, huffing out a sigh and turning his rich, wine-colored eyes to meet the wet blue ones searching his face. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I know the days have passed when I was Prussia, one who fought and killed and won for what I thought was right and when I knew who I was. Who am I now? I
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This poem is one of my personal favorites by me. If you watch Hetalia, you should know who the child is, but if you don't you'll understand it anyway.
© 2012 - 2024 Maximilian101
Comments50
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i love Hetalia! I love how you incorporated it into a poem