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NightOne can hear the whisper of the night
A subtle sound
A guiding light
The deer’s paws as they hit the ground
Rustling leaves respond from all around
A call of nature
It expresses no danger
One can see the painting of the night
The dotted stars
The moonlight’s bright
A simple canvas, no planes, trains, or cars
Illuminating the reach of nature’s might
In the sky there’s the distant Mars
A wondrous nightscape
Not a wound or scrape
One can hear the desecration of the night
A deafening sound
The animal’s fright
Motors screech and trees are downed
One can see the destruction of the night
No one sees destruction from afar
Now no one knows the beauty of the night
Can and OughtDoes ought imply can? Does can imply ought? Well, let's look at it from an English standpoint. When someone ought to do something, they are morally obliged to. When someone can do something, it means that they are physically capable of doing something. The two words ought and can obviously have different meanings.
Can someone commit murder? Yes. Is someone ought to? Generally, no. But that depends on the system of morals used. If one follows Hammurabi's code, if the victim commits murder, it is justified under the eye for an eye principle. If one follows Christianity, then they ought not to. If according to Mark, Lisa ought to do something that is within her physical bounds, but according to Jared, she ought not do it, does ought imply can? To Mark, can implies ought, but for Jared, can implies ought not. So, does can imply ought? It depends on the circumstances.
Say a deadly and incurable disease is killing off the human population. According to a humanitarian, someone ought to develo
2020The year was 2020 and Ray knew his type of folk almost were nonexistent. Their views were deemed as obsolete and part of the Old Way. Unable to communicate in the now common dialect of English, containing very little variety in vocabulary except for the originality of the obscenities used between every other word, his kind was generally looked down upon, shunned, or worse.
This kind, once looked upon as the upper class of an educated society, has now been cast off as nonconformists. As opposed to the newer generations who seldom read except for the closed captioning on televisions, these people knew and honored the classics. They knew a Beethoven piece from a Mozart, a Da Vinci from a Michelangelo, and a piano from an organ. Sure, they viewed movies and television shows, only not as much as a New Way person. The Archaics, as they were called by the members of the new society, or Currents, lived a life that they viewed as higher quality; in that they still had the p
The Poor Man's BurdenGive away the Poor Man's Burden
For avarice is a sin
If life's a race to heaven,
Then you're letting others win
Give away the Poor Man's Burden
It's a fair trade for what they own
When you end up more than six feet under
You'll take up a different tone
Give away the Poor Man's Burden
Making them pure will do the trick
But you will discover later
Who really got the short end of the stick
Give away the Poor Man's Burden
It's a good use of your time
Their vaults for you to steal
You're not the only one who's one committing that crime
VainMarty was a vain man. He grew up on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. He still lives there now. His parents owned a prospering law firm and made a lot of money. His parents passed their entrepreneurial prowess to him and it shows. He is the Chief Executive Officer of his own health care company. Obviously, he has always lived the material life.
One day, as Marty got out of his limousine right in front of his office, his empty coffee cup in hand, he noticed a young girl, about 18 years old. She had mousy brown hair and hazel eyes with a green tint. She held a bucket in one hand and a sign in the other. The sign read "Millions of people die from cancer each year. You can help."
"Please sir, help find a cure." She begged as he walked by. He just chuckled and dropped his empty coffee cup in hand. The girl's hopeful smile faded and was replaced by a frown. He walked into the building as if nothing had happened.
Marty spent the rest of the day doing dull paperwork and checking up on his empl
The TripTy had an ordinary life. He had normal hopes, normal friends, and normal parents. However, once a year, his dad took a mysterious trip to who knows where. Whenever he asked his dad about the trip, his father would jump into a soliloquy about personal sanity. Ty would always think that his dad, a renowned philosopher and author, was just having an idea about his next book. This pattern would repeat for a few years until Ty was thirteen.
One summer morning, Ty was awoken by an incessant repetition of his name. "Ty, Ty, wake up!" The voice sounded familiar, so he woke up to find his dad by his bedside dressed in an unusual assortment of clothes. A pair of hiking boots, a netted hat, and a tan vest was being sported by the man who considered going to the diner a black tie formal event. "Ty, I need you to get dressed in outdoor clothes and get ready to go on a journey," his father instructed.
"Wait, what? Why? Where are we going?" Ty inquisitively replied.
"You will see when we get there."
Impaled By One's Own SwordIf a dead corpse could show emotion, Todd's would show shock. He knew that Jasmine's father despised him, but he had no idea how much. He forced his spirit to move; to view the grotesque scene that was his house. Tables overturned, glass broken, a bloodstained carpet. Worst of all, his remains looked disgusting. The dried blood all over him lead to his chest. He saw a crescent blade with a ruby hilt the color of his blood.
Todd, furious used all of his ghostly willpower to go on a long trek. Of course, he did not notice the passing time as a ghostly essence. At last, he arrived at his destination during what looked like the dead of night. There, he passed a room where he knew quite well. The handcrafted sign on the door said Jasmine. He lingered there for a moment to remember the times he had with her. He slowly crept up into the room next door. There, he saw a man, obviously asleep.
La Noche TristeI never thought that it would come to this. My soldiers, my friends, are all dead. They were killed by the Aztec savages and their satanic deities. It should have been me. For I, Hernán Cortes, the leader, the oppressor, the conquistador, have been the real mastermind behind this terrible ordeal. We obtained gold, but at what price? This sad night, this noche triste, will live in infamy forever. But how did it happen? I have to think back to the events of the day.
After a week of debate, my advisors and I had decided to leave the city of Tenochtitlan due to civil unrest. We planned to begin our journey when the city was asleep; carrying all of our gold and what we brought with us. From there, we would swim across the canals and reach safety. If only we knew what would be waiting for us.
We spent the rest of the day preparing and briefing the soldiers for the escapade.
Finally, the moment of truth had arrived. We assumed that the Aztecs were asleep because there were no people on t
Brutal HonestyLeon constantly contemplated what his life would be like if he had never lied. Would he be sitting in this small jail cell that has been his "home" for the past month? Would he have never been charged with obstruction of justice and been sentenced for two months in prison? Would he be on good terms with the bureaucrats at the district attorney's office? He tried not to dwell on what could have been; but he just could not help himself. Leon can still remember every detail of why he went to prison.
As a young boy, Leon Smitherson was not a genius or a fool. He was average except in one area of his life. He often had a knack for trouble. He never went to look for it, for his father, a prominent fine arts enthusiast, would often coin expressions. "We would be fools if we thought that we had to search for mischief" was one of his father's favorites. Instead, trouble usually found its way to Leon. When havoc occurred, Leon would cover it up with lies, lies, and more lies.
When he was in Kind
Wait till the Bass Drops! TG
Kazuto loved dub step, no he adored dub step from the snares to the chilling base drop just gave him the feels. After all who can't resist Skrillex, Knife Party, Waterflame, and Flux. Dub step was so amazing to Kazuto that he shared it everywhere, from social network to just showing his friends and soon all the boys in his school were listening to the form of electronic music. Whenever a new album or EP came out the boys would rush to iTunes or GooglePlay to buy it or even preorder the EP.
Kazuto sat at the stairs of the library at his school watching the boys share earbuds and headphones, when a smile crossed his 14 year old face. Kazuto was 5'9, average muscle for his age, light brown hair around medium-short length just enough that it hung off his head and swayed in the wind, he had bright aqua eyes, and an athletic build to him. He liked to play soccer at break and lunch, but more or less listened to dub step with his friends.
So he smiled as
New School New You TG
Rin hated this idea. The idea of a move, a move between countries at that. His parents were after all Japanese, but that didn't mean he had to move there. He would lose his friends, his life, and hell even his school! That's how much he hated the idea. But despite his protests his parents did not oblige, they just brushed him off and told him to pack for the flight.
Inside his room, Rin stuffed his clothes, chargers for electronics, and other "personal" items as he huffed to himself, "Why must they decide my life for me!" His eyes shot to the door as footsteps grew louder. He zipped the suitcase and his dad appeared in the doorway, "Hey son." He said plainly.
"Hey Dad." Rin's eyes looked away and back to the suitcase as his medium length black hair whipped into his eyesight. Rin was 15, a sophomore in high school, he had a athletic build despite his heritage from japan. He was 6'0 and weighed 189 lbs. Yet he didn't like to run nor play soccer, in fact he was
Bite Sized: Hoodies are Chub Incubators
Karen dropped her backpack down with a mighty TWACK, not worried about it's heavy contents. Those books were sturdy. Unlike her legs, which felt like they'd give out any minute, shaking like jelly. A little too literal of a simile for Karen's taste as well.
More than a feeling, her thighs wobbled, shook, and pressed up together like gallons of pudding in a denim sack. Even her calves were several pints too full as well.
Panting heavily, Karen stumbled over to her bed and flopped on it, assaulting the springs in her mattress making them rebel for a few seconds. She groaned, facedown in her bed, short blonde hair splaying about her head, bangs slightly sweaty.
Using the stairs to get up to her dorm was supposed to help her trim up a bit. But if she tried that again she'd effing die. What was the point?
Adjusting her position, trying to spread out her legs for a stretch, Karen received a breeze up her back quite suddenly. Reluctantly, she slowly rotated her head to look into the mirror on
The Note TG
Hiro watched the bustling streets as cars passed and pedestrians walked. He loved the city, he loved the atmosphere, the new places to explore, and the way of life. Because of these reason he decided to live in a metropolis: Tokyo, Japan. He got up stretching from the hard bus bench he was sitting on and said, "Where to next." Hiro was 20 just graduated from college, he wore geeky glasses, messy blonde hair sat upon his scalp, he wasn't muscular nor athletic, he was school-smart which didn't make him good with girls. Yet he retained a positive attitude despite how bad his social life was. He did though work for Apple because of his Master Degree in Electronics at MIT which allowed him to travel to Japan for his job.
He sighed as he walked to his favorite restaurant; Ukaitei. On his way there a sudden gust of wind blew a certain piece of paper into Hiro's face.
"What the hell!" He exclaimed snatching the paper off his face. "What's this?" He wonde
Ben Tennyson VS Avatar Korra The Battle
Kra: “The scenario has been made, the fighters are set, and it’s time to see which gritty kids show hero is more powerful."
Natalia: “It’s time to settle this debate once and for all. Avatar VS Omnitrix. Aliens VS Elements.”
Both: “It’s time for a Death Battle!”
Kra: “And remember folks; you can only watch this, ONLINE!”
Natalia: “Was that a shot at Nickelodeon? Kra, I’m proud of you!”
Republic City, Pro-Bending Arena
High above the churning crowds, an airship’s loudspeakers echoed an orchestra of brass music that carried throughout the arena.
Hypnotic Brass Ensemble: War
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelcoooooooooooooooooooooooooome back Spectators! I’m your very own Pro-bending host, Shiro Shinobi, with continued coverage of the Nick VS CN contest of champions!”
[Human!HungaryX Dead!ReaderX Human!Prussia] Reboot
A room the darkness has come to love.
A witch so hauntingly then appears.
She greets me only to turn then say goodbye.
The time the seasons began to freeze.
The days that never pass would pile up as snow.
I think about it all of the time.
The sun shone brightly on (town/city name), with hardly a single cloud in the sky. You were content with happily enjoying some ice cream with your friends Elizaveta and Gilbert. They often teased each other and you would sit back and watch, often video taping it on your cellphone. The happy days of summer vacation. You never wanted it to end!
You all did what you normally did- played pranks on neighbors and strangers, annoyed Roderich a little, and somehow even convinced your parents to let you spend the night at Elizaveta's (though, you didn't tell them Gilbert was coming, but that's just a minor detail~). That night, you all talked and laughed and played games in the dark.
"Hey, guys!" You got their attention, snapping your fingers in the mi
TG Caption This: Magic Mirror
It had been a year since I had seen her, and there was nothing I could do to stop myself from closing the distance at a run and embracing her. My sister, Kirsten, tried to do the same; except that she was wearing the most absurd costume I had ever seen and probably would have fallen on her face if she had tried. I didn’t care that there were other people watching, I didn’t care about how stupid we would look.
Like a fluffy little ferret or a little dog, Kirsten was mostly fluff and little else, and I scooped her up without difficulty. She wrapped her arms around my neck and cried into my shirt, sniveling. “I’ve missed you so much, big brother!” My sister was eleven, a full seven years younger than I was, and our close friendship would probably have seemed improbable or even bizarre to anyone who didn’t know what had created it.
“I’ve missed you too, Kir,” I said, like the beginning of the word “iridium” with a “k
[France X Joan of Arc] Waiting Forever
**Quick Note- this is probably not historically accurate. I have tried in the past to try and get the facts and to get this as straight as possible, but if this isn't historically accurate, please don't chew me out in the comments. And also, please read description after reading! ~ChangeOHearts101**
*May 29, 1431. France is at the height in its revolution against England in the 100 Years' War, and the maiden that came from nowhere and seemed to be helping the desperate situation, was sentenced to death by Arthur himself. Francis loved her immensely. A ma'm who can do so much in so little time, and at such a young age, amazed him. It was strange for him, to love someone so fresh in life. But who was he to compare? Hundreds upon hundreds, thousands, of years ahead of everyone we walked with now.
And so, despite his hardest efforts to reject the deal, he was unable to. His citizens were blinded by a promise of plausible peace before them, and if sacrificing a girl was the only way through
Death Battle: The Heavy vs. Jinx
TFP: We've analysed the comments and finished comparing the weapons and abilities of these two iconic heavy gunners of Free to play PC games.
Jake: NOW IT’S TIME FOR A DEATH BATTLE!
TeuFort, the primary battleground between the two rivaling organizations, the Builders League United also known as BLU and the Reliable Excavation Demolition also known as RED.
Recently however a few of the mercenaries that were hired by these two companies had to deal with new enemies from some organization known as the United Assassins Association. The RED Soldier had recently returned from his fight with a certain "communist" and had been telling his fellow men at arms the story of the heroic battle.
However these fights with the assassins did little to hinder the ongoing war between the REDs and the BLUs and after a short minute of cease fire the carnage at TeuFort resumed. W
The Bowie Knife "What are you going to do, kill me? I'd like to see you try, Thomas!" Spat a bald man, obviously toughened up judging by the scar on his face that went with his bald scalp.
"That is my intent, Joseph!" Thomas sneered back with equal ferocity.
"Okay." Joseph put his hand behind his back and pulled out a pistol. "This should be interesting to watch. You don't even have a gun, only a silly little knife."
"This silly little knife has killed more people than you can imagine. It represents more than you and your pathetic gun can ever comprehend."
"Fine. Enlighten me. Show me the glory of your old decrepit Bowie Knife." Joseph challenged.
"This knife represents courage." Thomas explained as he was transported to twenty years earlier. He remembered meeting the abusive husband of the woman h
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More