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Joined January 2012
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56w, 4dArt for Fanfiction
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51w, 4dKeeria's Library
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57w, 5dShort Stories
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1,261
Help me! Help me! I implore!
My plea, my cry, please don’t ignore!
In my thoughts and in my brain:
Ponies raging like a train.
I attest they’re sounding, sounding
One request that’s pounding, pounding
Pounding from my head and heart;
Toward my hands, they make their start.
Slowly, slowly, can you hear
That chugging, chugging noise I fear?
“Write us! Write us!” they do cry,
Shout, and holler to the sky.
“Write us! Write us!” Steam and steel
Echoes maddeningly real.
“Write us! Write us!” Fear is growing;
Palms of sweat, under-knowing.
“Write us! Write us!” Faster! Faster!
Who here is the Lord and Master?
“Write us! Write us!” Will is broken.
“Write us! Write us!” Naught is spoken.
Fingers itch, and keyboard clacks
Like the clicking of the tracks.
Beads upon my fettered brow
Call to mind what little now
I have here left, this time I keep.
For my soul I duly weep.
And to the daring, wand’ring eye,
I say to you: Please quickly fly!
Wander here no more, please do;
Wander-else, this cess don’t stew.
You built me up, then broke me down
With what I wear: your misplaced crown.
Colorful you are no more,
Demented train that I abhor.
Your passengers, oh Scootaloo!
Twilight Sparkle. Rainbow, too!
And all the rest, the train does carry
Those my mind, unending, harry,
Following their leader there,
With dark red eyes and smoke-black hair.
With charcoal grin of unearned fame,
I, myself, do drive the train.
Closer, closer I do hear,
Their train, it comes so very near
To where I lay all bound in rope,
Crying, praying with all hope.
But instead they drag me down
With my sin: your misplaced crown.
Hellbound now in sanguine bath,
The train-grill roars my epitaph.
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Did you call me?
I can't! I'm insiiiiideeee yooouuuuu!
So what, is this some sort of vignette collection?
They're nice, but some indication would have been great. I hate vignettes. They always leave me so damn unsatisfied, because they're usually just a brief moment of conflict, and maybe a twist to finish it off. There's rarely any sort of resolution.
*Literary snob* 
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I clicked weak and weary,
Thru many a vile and bilious image on slash-b of yore,
Amidst the trolling, tired and phony, suddenly I saw a pony,
With noodly arms like macaroni, and a pastel-hued decor.
"'Tis some anime," I muttered, "with those big eyes that I deplore -
Only this, and nothing more."
Yet so great was all my sadness, I was seized with sudden madness,
despite the years of pony badness, for a torrent of that mare.
Fast I turned to pirate scheming, for some Youtube channel streaming,
to the phosphor dimly gleaming, vector art from everywhere.
Rainbow-coloured pony gladness, in the monitor's flickering glare.
"Just one show, and nothing more."
And the ponies, always grinning, now I fear are just beginning
To drive my feverish brain to spinning ponyfictions evermore.
And my eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is scheming,
And the lamp-light o'er me streaming throws my shadow on the floor;
Pointed ears and nostrils flaring, in my shadow on the floor.
Ponified forevermore!
Your writing is lovely.
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