Gender •
Male Location • Wales Member Since • 2005-01-18 Occupation • Jeweller Real Name • Marc
Personal
Achievements • Life Anime Fan Since • ever Favorite Anime • Shaman king and Ghost in the shell Goals • Become grand master of the known universe...umm and a death metal lord Hobbies • Wailing on my guitar, listening to music adn doing martial arts. My Martial art is Aikido but I also do a small bit of Iaido on the side. Talents • Poetry writting song lyrics. story writing. My imagenationis teriffying! But I do enjoy entertaining. Make peope laugh is the best feeling in the world!
myOtaku.com: Blackwizard
Welcome to my site archives. 10 posts are listed per page.
Lost in a breath of myself, my latest poem
Lost in a breath of myself
A sigh to echo through time delayed,
For wasted is life on the young,
Clenching fists that bare immortality,
To learn one day that they shall fall to the most feeble of things.
Seeing now waves beyond waves,
That crash at my feet only to be reborn,
Heeding the beauty and caressing the wind,
What outlasts us shall again satisfy the blindness of onlookers.
Torn down and left to blow,
Harsh be the reality clouded,
For these straw legs shall outlast the storm,
Left to hide on my hill of starry nights cold breath.
Following clouds rolling by,
Why do we waste our time in such fascination,
Looking-on letting the land bleed sorrow,
To glance again and know it was never there.
And nor will I be,
Commanded to suppress that which others should duty.
hi
Should I continue to add poetry to my site. Tell me in the comments guys and girls l8r Comments (5) |
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Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Keeper of Secrets. This is 100% original by me and no one else!!! Heed my warning!
The whispers you tell with a grin,
Of things so dark and full of sin,
Entrust me with this burden told,
For the key of secrets kept I hold.
Tell me and let no man know,
In the shadows let your secret grow,
Hiding it away from you,
Until its telling time is due.
Casting it in your dark mind,
Burried too deep for any to find,
Lost within the tales of time,
Freeing you from your secrets bine.
Forgotten is the dept you owe,
Held down by my torment crow,
My eyes see all you cannot flee,
Though hunting you shall bring me glee.
Now you must attend my need,
Or else I'll sow truths ugly seed.
By Marc .C .Gillings
Tell me what you think...Am I really that messed in the head? Comments (4) |
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Friday, April 22, 2005
Which to watch in my ever valuble time. You decide!
Now then my fans here is my latest story character for you. The idea is 100% origanal and so is the poem. Remember to tell me what u think in the comments. Thanks Lovely Wind you helped me get this idea!
Karst ‘Keeper of secrets’
Another incident to top the recent onrush of assaults that have plagued Karst these past years as he slams the door leaving his tormenter to rant on at itself. He felt alone again, the world had once again turned its back on him. He runs down the street wishing for a moment to tame his mind, this delirium of rage he feels is the only thing that keeps him going. He jumps around a ridge and follows down. Beneath this bridge he sees all the walls closing in on him, he struggles to find relief as he presses his warm fingers through his thick black hair. Everyone in his life had turned cold on him, darkness was upon his doorstep and knowing this he could not take anymore. It had to end...and soon.
Making his way to the library, the only place where he would not be judged, Karst contemplated the many ways to end his life. He had no loyal friend to break his fall, his life is a one way street, evil thoughts plagued his mind. His hopes and dreams where to far away, shattered by those he had come to trust. The hour was late but he looked to find solitude in the bindings of a book. The library was empty, but he was far from alone. Finding comfort in the candle light he walked down the dark shelves of the library, his pendant knocking against his chest as he moved. For a brief moment he was overwhelmed by a quick burning sensation on his back. reaching for it he felt down the marking of his tattoo. It was one of an angel holding a Celtic cross shaped into a key, this was the mark of the keeper of secrets. Thinking nothing of his sensation he pressed on down a shelf. He passed near a row entitled witchcraft when he saw his breath in front of him. This was a bit weird as he had been burning up not 2 minutes earlier. A noise behind him made him jump. Turning as quick as he could he was no match to the speed of whatever moved from behind him. “Who’s there?” he cried out not expecting a reply. A mysterious gust of wind from his right blew out the candle, Karst shivered because he knew he closed the door tightly on the way in. Catching something in the corner of his eye he perused down a row entitled med-evil history and fantasy. As he followed draglines through the dust Karst felt eyes on him. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he came to a halt. Glancing to his side he could see through to the next row through the bookshelf. He pulled away several vampire books and peered through the gap, chills went up his spine as he knew whatever stirred in this place was staring directly at him. This face to face meeting with whatever it was made the spirit pendant around Karsts neck lean forward and glow. The candle now in his left hand ignited and the flame turned dark blue, the tattoo on his back burnt him badly for no reason. The out of the darkness of the shelf, the books, the candle and his mind came a stillness. A pair of eyes appeared before his face, he did not scream for Karst was paralysed with fear. Yet the eyes where somehow familiar. The stared so deep the read his thoughts but he gladly let them take what they wished. As they reached the deepest thoughts of him depressed events they stopped. A voice in Karsts head spoke to him in a dreary tone “A gift to you ‘Keeper of secrets’ ” but before he could question the voice a bolt of energy shot at him square in the head knocking him cold for 2 hours. Finally when he came around Karst rubbed his head and got to his feet. A book fell from his lap, it was decorated with ivy leaves in corners and in a circle around a pentagram. It was titled ‘The book of shadows’ them he was struck by the memory of what happened that voice still rang in his skull. He flicked through the book, to his astonishment the was nothing in it all black pages! The as if the wind itself whispered to him he knew what he had to do. He began to write.
His first entry a prophecy. But for what, for when. These are questions that will be answered quicker than he thinks:
Here is an exelent fan fic of teen titans sent to me by Capital Cheese. Very cool story and I hope you guys send more.
Blackbirds Singing In The Dead Of Night
It has been two weeks, to the day, virtually to the hour, and he still has not uttered one single, solitary word about it. Not one. In fact, he hasn’t said much of anything, or done much of anything for that matter.
He keeps to himself more often than not, apparently preferring the company of his expressionless bedroom walls than to that of the mindless banter of our fellow team mates… not that I can truly blame him… after all, who am I to talk? But it is still very out of character for him, and if nothing else, I can recognize dangerous ground when it’s being tread on. He is acting far too much like me for my own idioms sake, and I’m sure the others would agree when I say that this tower is to damn small for two Raven’s.
He’s still playing the part of unruffled leader just fine, but I know he’s slipping; I can see it in his subtlety. True, he may have always had a reserved temperament, but behind the façade of ‘cool and collected’ hero he’s always had a reckless nature, stemming from what I always assumed was his younger years as an acrobat. One needs to be a bit fearless when working without a safety net, I suppose.
Fighting beside Robin long enough has made me accustomed to the atmosphere of sheer cockiness that encapsulates him in a haze strong enough to make even the most apathetic of us quite nauseous… but lately… lately that smug demeanor has been missing, it’s been replaced, substituted with an emotion that our Robin isn’t very familiar with… fear.
Fear of his own fragile mortality and of those he cares about; a fear that it does not take much to bring down even the most invulnerable of super hero’s.
I’d tell you that I could see all this in his eyes, but it would be a lie. I suppose his mask has other uses besides his pathetic attempt to keep his anonymity. Of course the others may not know who he really his, but then again the others haven’t floated through his oblique mind. I know him very well indeed… better than I let on. I know him so well I don’t need to ever know what his eyes look like to know what emotions are generating from them.
The other Titans know what’s happened, but they are doing there best to ignore it. They believe that when Robin needs them, he will come to them. They don’t understand that he would rather rot from the inside out then go to any of them for help. Robin’s independence will be his undoing. He’ll slowly unravel until all that’s left is a long string of memories of what use to be. I’ve seen it happen. Emotions are deadly things.
So now, as I watch him play with his plate of spaghetti and tofu-balls (courtesy of Beast Boy), I realize that if anything is to be done it has to be me who does it.
I slowly shake my head beneath my hood and wrap my ice cold fingers around my tea cup, I really don’t want to do this.
“Hey Robin, man,” Beast Boy squeaks at our captain, “you up for a hot game of ‘Hot Rod 2: Burning Rubber’? Cyborg’s been unbeaten so far and I think together you and I have a chance of taking him down.”
Robin takes his eyes of his plate for a second to acknowledge the changeling, “No thanks, BB, I think I’m going to turn in early tonight.”
Although I don’t spare the others a glance, I know that Beast Boys ears have dropped, and Cyborg and Starfire probably look dejected too. It’s all just reaffirming what I know I have to do.
I sigh softly and take a sip of tea, wincing a moment as the hot liquid scalds my tongue. This is your entire fault, Wayne… I think bitterly as I wrack my already tired brain for a more impressive plan than the one that I’ve got. I close my eyes… no, nothing else will work…I just hope he can forgive me…
I cracked an eye open as I heard the phone in the kitchen ringing. I’m not answering that, I thought as I closed my eye once again, preparing to resume meditation. Beast Boy and Cyborg can get off their butts and answer it.
“Azarath Metrion Zin-”
“-Ring! Ring! Ring!”
“Would somebody get the damn phone?” I yelled, doing my best to keep my irritation in check. Honestly, Cyborg and Beastboy were five feet away from the phone, they could answer it.
“Ring! Ring! Ring!”
Three books flew off my shelf as I jumped off my bed and threw open my door, “Cyborg! Beast Boy! Can’t you hear the phone?”
No answer. Where the hell were they?
“Ring! Ring! Ring!”
Realizing that no one else had any intention on answering the phone, or at least had no indication the phone was ringing, I sighed and quickly flew down the hall to the kitchen.
“Ring! Ring! Ri-”
“-Hello?”
“Yes, hello,” answered a decidedly distressed, English accented, older male voice.
An odd feeling passed through me, something’s wrong. “May I help you?”
“Oh, yes. Er, is Master Grays- Robin there please?”
The way the man stumbled over Robin’s real name and how unaccustomed he sounded to saying the name ‘Robin’ helped me to ascertain who the caller was, though I thought it would be politer to ask, “May I tell him who’s calling?”
“Er, yes. Yes, of course. Could you tell him that this is Al?”
I smirked, Alfred, “Of course, Al, just one moment please.”
I knew Robin would probably be in the gymnasium, because, as Red X has pointed out, albeit less tactfully, Robin has no other hobbies and was oh so painfully predictable.
I quickly flew down the hall and to the gym. As I flew nearer I couldn’t help but smirk as I heard the indicative sounds of Robin grunting as he pounded away at an invisible foe.
“Gee Robin;” I said after I had opened the door and closed it again behind me, “I’m sure that if you ask politely the punching bag would gladly return the money it owes you.”
Robin chuckled as he took off his wrist guards, “As much as I love your witty repartee, Raven, I’m smart enough to know that you don’t bother anyone unless they have either directly bothered you, or indirectly bothered you. So which is it?”
I couldn’t help but smile, “You have a telephone call, in the kitchen. A nice older man with an English accent… said his name was Al.”
Robin’s back stiffened and he looks me straight in the eye. He was in business mode, “What does Alfred want?”
I paused a moment as I tried to figure out what emotion I had heard through Alfred’s voice. I shook my head, “I don’t know Robin, but he did sound a bit distressed over some-”
He raced out of the room before I had even finished my sentence.
Stuck between my own curiosity and my deep respect for Robin’s privacy, I slowly followed him out of the gym and back down the hall to the kitchen. I didn’t hear much speaking and I automatically began fearing the worst. I sprinted down the remainder of the hall, but by the time I reached the kitchen, Robin had already hung up the phone and was looking, for lack of a stronger term, destroyed.
“Robin?” I ventured gently.
He didn’t acknowledge me, just stared off in the distance.
I walked up close to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Robin what happened?”
He stood up brusquely and moved father away from me, a coldness I could not see before, followed him. “It’s none of your concern, Raven, just an unfortunate family matter.”
I reached out and grabbed his arm firmly, “Robin you nee-”
“-I said no, Raven, so just drop it!” He yelled and violently threw my arm off of his, before walking into his room.
His callousness would have received a harsher rebuttal from me, in fact I had planned to say one…but before I got that chance, a faint spinning in the back of my mind alerted me to one of my lesser known powers… and just as I fell on the couch, I blacked out….
I was a young boy flying through the air and into my mother awaiting arms as the audience applauded me and she and us, and then death, they were stolen from me, I could have stopped it, but I didn’t and now I have no one…only death……. Bruce Wayne and his big house and his bikes and how I’ve finally got someone to take care of me forever, someone who will never die because I made a mistake... I am Robin…to protect…. forming the Titans…to protect with company… visiting Bruce anytime I could, thanking him for his understanding of the Titans… calling him my father….the telephone call, Alfred… Alfred the butler… “Master Wayne is dead Master Grayson…he took a nasty fall while training… no bad guys to fight… no one to bring to justice… just the miscalculations of an aging man…. Please come to the funeral ….. We’re planning it for two weeks from Friday… at the Manor…please come. ..We need you.”
When I awoke from my vision, it was all over the television. ‘Bruce Wayne died today….’ ‘Death at Wayne manor, news at eleven’ ‘the famous billionaire Bruce Wayne was accidentally killed today in his mansion after falling off equipment in his personal gym and hitting his chest against the corner of a forgotten crate, causing his heartbeat to become erratic and eventually go into arrest…’ so on and so on, on every channel. Robin must be dying. There nothing I can do…he’ll go to one of the others. Starfire is always chipper, he’ll go to her, cry on her shoulder and then he’ll be fine.
Of course things with Starfire hadn’t gone as swimmingly as I had hoped. Instead Robin seemed even more reclusive after the incident. Starfire had come back quite happy with a job well done, that I didn’t have the heart to tell the naive Tamaranian that in reality it hadn’t really worked, and that Robin was just putting up an excellent front so that the others wouldn’t bother him. And they have bought his front and they haven’t bothered him too much… they just accepted that he was going through a rough patch and that eventually he’ll bounce back just like all the other times.
I, as I have explained before, know better. Takes one to know one, right?
I let out a loud exasperated sigh and prepared for what would become one of the greatest upsets in Titan history. Well, here it goes…
“You know,” I said as casually as I could manage, though my heart was pounding, “I never really liked Batman.”
The heavy silence that fell over the room was like nothing I had ever felt before… it was thick and completely revolting. My stomach turned so hard that it took concentrated effort not to up-chuck all over the table.
“Umm, Raven?” Beast Boy ventured hesitantly.
I breathed deep and looked around at the rest of the Titans. Starfire, BB, and
Cyborg were looking at me in complete disbelief, but it wasn’t their reaction I was interested in. My eyes slowly cross the table to look into Robin’s, but I couldn’t because he was starring straight down into his spaghetti, pretending like he hadn’t heard.
You can’t fool me, Robin, I can see you’re angry. I watched as Robin’s fork slowly bent backwards under the strain of his grip. Just a little more…
“Yeah, I never thought he was much of a crime fighter. Relied to heavily on gadgets and the like… you know, he wasn’t a REAL super hero, just a want-to-be with no real super powers.”
With my every word, the Titans grew more horrified and Robin drew closer to loosing it.
“Raven, I don’t think-”
“Oh hush, Cyborg. Like you’re much better, you’re about as intimidating as the Energizer Bunny… but even he could last forever.”
The hurt expression on Cyborg’s face broke my heart, but I knew there was no turning back now. Please forgive me.
“Friend Raven that is enough!”
“Oh stop trying to defend them Star, at least you have powers, although, they rarely do you any good. You can fly, you have super strength, and you shoot energy out of you eyes and palms and yet you ALWAYS wind up playing damsel in distress, what’s with that?”
Starfire ran from the table in tears and Cyborg quickly followed her, shooting me a clearly disgusted look as he went by. Please forgive me.
I spared Robin a quick glance to see if he had broken yet, and was quite disappointed to see he was still only on the verge. Damnit, feel you bastard, FEEL! Don’t wind up like me when you have a choice.
Beast Boy stood up solemnly and looked me square in the eyes, “I suppose you’ll have something to say about me next.”
I smirked, “Oh no, BB. Nothing at all…well at least nothing Terra hasn’t already carven in stone.”
Beast Boy retreated as fast as he could, knowing I suppose, that his tears were on the verge of betraying his cool exterior. Please forgive me.
Now, only Robin and I, I turned to face the man who was my original target, only to find he had disappeared. Shit. I jumped up from the table and quickly followed the path I was certain he would take. So, back to the gym it is. A perfect place for a showdown between Titans, I thought wryly. I had a feeling blood was going to be spilt before this night was over… and if it all going according to plan… most of that blood will be mine.
And now to present my pet ain't he quite. 
hi Not my pet my m8s Rhians...Why a blue dog i don't know? 
Lost in a breath of myself, my latest poem 
Which to watch in my ever valuble time. You decide! 
Now then my fans here is my latest story character for you. The idea is 100% origanal and so is the poem. Remember to tell me what u think in the comments. Thanks Lovely Wind you helped me get this idea! 
