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Put Out the Light, P2
"How is she doing?"
"She's alive... that's all that matters. But I think she may be coming down with a fever. She's been pushing herself too hard..."
"I've noticed... She doesn't exactly know when to quit."
Slowly, Twilight's eyes began to creak open, and the world around her blurred and shook. A terrible throb came through her skull and she winced, her ears laying flat against the top of her head. Moaning miserably, Twilight curled her legs up against her belly, feeling nauseous. A hoof brushed against her bangs. Though it pained her to look, Twilight forced her eyes to focus and looked upwards. The faces of Rarity and Pinkie Pie began to come into view. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rarity put her hoof in front of it.
"Easy now, darling. You need your rest." The unicorn tried to smile, but not much came of it. When Twilight tried to sit, Pinkie pushed her back down and then pulled a cloak over her as she shivered.
"What happened?" she managed to ask. The memories of earlier bega
Put Out the Light, P1
Death was a curious concept. Back in the old days, it was thought of as an old friend who came to collect those who were ready to read the end of their stories. It had never harmed Ponyville, or Equestria for that matter. It merely did its job, letting the world turn in its natural order. But that was then. Now, Death not only came to the doors of old ponies, but to the doors of those who were not ready. It riddled the land with ashy black hills where grass once grew. The trees, so vivid and fruitful, were now sparse and sickly. So many memories, happy memories, gentle memories, were now buried beneath piles and piles of destruction and bile. The bright colors on the corner sweet shop had faded into a dismal gray. The elegant laid detail on the town's boutique now was nothing but walls and chipping paint. The skies once were clear and well managed. Now, with no one to tend to them, they had a never-ending mask of gray that covered the desolate earth below. And the life and blood of Pon
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More