I don't smile,
I don't laugh,
I don't care about life,
I don't think about tomorrow,
Every day is just another that is borrowed.

Anxiety is always surging,
My stomach is always purging and twisting,
My thoughts are always kept high but my head is hung down low,
I don't want this pain anymore,
Misery is aplenty,
I just want to get out of here.

Don't lie to me,
I see it in your eyes, the fact that you are scared of me,
I know not why, and it makes me cry,

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A book was found,
behind, beneath,
the shelves of mine,
to me, bequeathed.
Upon them sat,
my stories told,
so many lost,
both young and old.

But this one, new -
apparent age.
So old it was,
on inner page.
It's title, blocked,
in stranger verse,
in unknown words,
meaning dispersed.

I grabbed it soft,
in magic held,
with horn alit,
its words it tell'd.
I read it then,
I flipped it through,
Its pages turned,
each one so new.

I read of old,
of Canterlot,

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Everyone Needs Oz Now and Again
Oh, no-one thinks you lax
If you sit around all day reading Facts.
But you should see what kind of friction
Comes from reading fiction!
They sputter and they snort,
“I thought you a reasonable sort!”
They snort and they sputter,
“That rot’s stuff I won’t even utter!”
You patiently turn the pages of our brand new sci-fi novel,
But does that stop them? Of course not. They continue that old squabble.
“You’re a grown person now, you can’t deny,

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Praising Sentences for Being Confusing is Bad

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A Poem:

(Not written for me thank gods, but for a very foolish friend)

A [Name]ical Love Poem

My best beloved, baby, honey-bun, sugar, love—I sent you a thing
several things, in fact: a video, some text, a lot of subtext
And I've noticed, in passing, lightly, that since my words took wing
it's been, oh, about 1128.7 seconds. Give or take. About. Are you vexed?

I mean, I'm sure you have your reasons: kidnapped by assassins, say

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"I would not have you in a rill
Or standing on a basalt sill
Your loving wife I ne'er shall be
Though you annoy me, constantly.
Thought of your touch makes me quite ill,
Give up your suit, Messer Rockhill."

Part of a poem written by Maud Pie to Constant Rockhill.

For the next couple of days I won't be around much, but do not despair, for Monday brings you a treat! A new story! It's just a little one shot, but I hope you like it. It's e-rated with implied Fluttercord, but not really a romance story - more slice of life.

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I proudly present you a reading of a parody of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven."
It's good to be back. Something a little sillier for y'all.
Some swearing; PG-13 but nothing inappropriate. Just SWAG.

Works on FimFiction I've Proofread/Edited for (From most recent to first)

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I saw this in an article recently. It is not mine. I thought it was an interesting perspective to take.

I Wake to Close the Morning

Why do people keep asking to see

God’s identity papers

when the darkness opening into morning

is more than enough?

Certainly any god might turn away in disgust.

Think of Sheba approaching

the kingdom of Solomon.

Do you think she had to ask,

“Is this the place?”

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...this poem I wrote last summer could be a killer rock song.

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I was just linked to this video today, and I thought I would share it.

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Science with ponies is the game I play,
And today it is 'Type Like Zecora day',
So I can't resist the silly new game,
To write a short post with this curious aim.

I think the time is surely ripe,
To look at the root of a zebra stripe,
Why did these equines evolve just so,
With black and white streaks from head to toe?

A camouflage trick? Set to confuse,
Their predators by the dazzling views,
A fair guess, but it seems not quite right,

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I have just submitted a collection of narrative poems that I have written about my and friend's OCs
I hope that you enjoy them.

I figured that I'd do this new thing where I would sit down with my laptop and record some of my thoughts and general stuff about life and publish it for your own entertainment.

I've simply decided to title it as FireRain Talks.

I've literally just published the first video onto my YouTube account for the viewing, so if your interested, go ahead and give it a listen!

Today's episode is all about Remembrance and Poetry.

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(Yeah, this isn't meant to be taken seriously, so I just want to clarify that. This is actually something I figured I'd try on the spot as a piece of dark poetry, seeing as I actually like this type of writing.)

It's been a hard life,
Many happy memories and laughs all around,
Merry, merry times a bundle.
So, why, here in this deep pit of black, do I sit?
Did I ask too many questions?
Did I say something unwanted or unintentional?

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I have resumed writing my Sunset poetry story, Atychiphobia! I have also reformatted previous chapters because there were some inconsistencies. If you downloaded the story, I would suggest doing so again to get the cleaner version.

Expect more updates on this story and others shortly.

I want to learn how to make stories that mean something, its a dream of mine really. To learn how to write so I can bring something that means something to me and so many of my friends and family to life. witch by the way is a comic book super hero universe much like marvel or dc comics, I have so many stories and ideas in my head, I want others to see them for the beauty they are. so I can do what others who have Inspired me and people before me to make worlds

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(Alternative title: In Which Quill Rambles At Great Length Without Very Much Editing About How They Wrote Two Mediocre Poems And One Excellent One.
Also There Are Pretentious Headings.)

i: the conception

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Welcome back readers! It’s time for a Being a Better Writer Micro-blast!

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