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About Deviant Artist Cyre: The PreciseFemale/United States Recent Activity
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Literature
The Locket
The wind was treacherous and groaning as it blew through the deserted Pit of Saron. Bits of ice and snow swirled around the basin as a lone huntress stood on the cliff of a canyon. Even from a distance, her stance was set, her body seeming unmoving even as the wind tore at her cloak and her hair, causing them to billow in the wind. Those reddish blonde tresses were loose and picked up, teasing gently around her shoulders and cheeks. The cloak of pure ebony, bordered in a pristine white pattern, fluttered to her right like a banner in the hellish breeze. Her face, much more fitted for a smile, was seriously set, brows drawn down in a frown that would make even the most battle hardened quiver. She wore her leather and mail armor, each piece a mix of both, the colors dark brown, forest green and glimmering azure set in a style over the leather that looked eerily like dragon scales.
She hefted in a breath and exhaled it in a sigh that fogged in front of her face; a hand rose and tugged her
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Sylestina by cyre Sylestina :iconcyre:cyre 0 2
Mature content
An Italian Adventure :iconcyre:cyre 2 4
Literature
Elemental Series: Water
I am one made up of many.
I draw strength from the numbers.
I am gentle enough to heal,
Yet tough enough to carve.
My loving rain can heal.
I nurture and encourage.
Growth is my specialty.
I can soak and soothe
The earth sprouts life
With my aide.
Yet, behold me in my wrath.
I pelt and call down,
The harshest of punishment.
I am a mistress with two sides.
I am serene and I am chaotic.
I am harsh enough to demand my way.
I have carved canyons and trenches.
I can cause the most delicate bloom
To either blossom or wilt.
Appreciate my love.
Fear my fury.
Seek balance
But remember
Peace begins in you.
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Literature
From Whence I Came
You call and my ears beg me not to hear.
Wicked words spoken in a familiar voice, my mind aches with the madness of the resistance to obey.
But I did try to resist, I crawled on hands and knees away from that wicked demise so perfectly offered.
"Irresistible…" my body whispered while my soul screamed in torment.
The pain crippled my response; it had me rooted in my place.
But, lo, I had struggled. Let it not be said I went placidly. Let them not whisper wickedly that I went without a fight.
But I went.. The strength I lacked had been my own undoing. The core of metal that had been my spine had been drained, corrupted, siphoned away.
I went…
To that desolate place from whence I came.
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New-ness? by cyre New-ness? :iconcyre:cyre 2 24
Literature
Unbridled Emotion
Stay with me.
Hold my head above water.
I'm sure it won't be long now...
And I've never needed you more
We've come so far
You and I...look where we are
So much love, so many years
But all good things...
I cried a river of tears over you
You couldn't have known
I know that you didn't...never...
"Silence like a cancer grows..."
You must have known though
That when the flame licked my cheek
I screamed for you to save me
At least I have the memory of warmth
After the ashes, you stood
Eyes glassy and heart passive
When enough became too much.
Did you think I wouldn't see?
You crafted endless excuses
Spun me a tapestry of lies
Martyred yourself for my sympathy
My heart bleeds for you...
But the water surely rises
Frigid, breathtaking
Sweet release cometh at last
And I'll miss you the most
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Literature
What Your Love Means To Me
I'm giving you a lifetime
Of whatever you want of mine.
When two hearts join together
The Gods and stars align.
Behold, I tell the masses,
This is what he's giving to me.
A heart capable of love
Unjaded eyes, to see.
I've never given another
What I give to you
My love, my heart is yours
Its what I want to do
I'm giving you my everything
Because I want you to see
Thats what your love
Means to me.
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Literature
Something More
I know we've been alone a while
And truth and love are out of style.
Face it we're not cool
From the other school
Of light and happiness...
Remember?
Light and Happiness...
Now the glamorous sunrise
Are only for the lame or wise
Another random fact of life
Filled with worry or strife
But if I could take it back...
Oh...
But if I could take it back
I'd hide among the lillies
And the roses with their thorns
And the old way of life
I'd weep for and I'd mourn
I can't bring it back again
No...
but maybe ...
We could bring it back again.
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Tiger's Eyes Never Lies by cyre Tiger's Eyes Never Lies :iconcyre:cyre 3 17
Literature
The Unholy Missive
I can hear your thoughts
And they are mine
The sound and the fury,
And complete lack of light
This isn't hell
Merely reality
The next best thing...
The flame is our sunlight
The smoke is our breeze
Never you mind what burns
The flaw we discovered
Is essential
See, it made you
Like it made me
Between a thing as it is
And as it cannot be
From where we are now
There is no passage back
Such a way is closed,
The million miles crossed
With each new step,
Regret
And on this forced path
We fall further
From what we once knew,
From what we once were;
And on what would be this day
We know we shall not speak again
So take what of the real you remains
Lest it be taken
In these desolate plains
Such is called hope
Sincerely
Yours
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:iconcyre:cyre 4 10
Literature
The Never War
It was going to be a cloudless night.
I noted this as I watched the moon’s ascent; my tail flicked back and forth sweeping the snow of which it resembled. Tonight was the night, the final battle and my heart ached.
It was not always so. My grandmother could remember a time when the leopards of the snow and the arctic wolf pack were at peace, allies perhaps against the ravaging humans…
But the humans were no longer our common enemy, they left us to try to repopulate our depleted ranks and so as the elders said it would happen the once trusted allies became enemies. When this began I was young and not wise, when I asked them why we must fight the wolves, the elders told me it was because they were dangerous and wicked and could not be trusted. Years later I was mature and I saw fault in their reasoning, mistakes had been made on both sides of the line, each as deplorable as the other. Having met a wolf and befriended him, I realized that we were not so different.
Balthazar was
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Literature
Cold Sheets
Sitting here on our bed…
Remembering
Wondering where I went wrong
I hoped it wouldn’t come to this
I guess I knew it all along
I stare at these sheets
The color no longer so bold
And think back to an earlier time
When this cloth was not so cold
Remember when we picked them out?
The month that we were wed?
You wanted them blue to soothe
And I, them, passionate red.
Remember how we used to tussle?
And you always used to win.
You’d pin me to the bedroom floor
Then it led to so much more…
I remember in the kitchen
Even over the table and chairs
A heated look was all it took
You’d chase me up the stairs
But now your breathing is slow
I know that you’re truly asleep.
I wish to tell you what I miss
That it’s your touch I seek
My hand lingers over you
I should just tell you now
Tell you that I’ve missed you so
I just don’t know how
So I bite my lip
Stifle my wants and my needs
I’ll roll over…
And try to get a good night’s sleep
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SuperCyre by cyre SuperCyre :iconcyre:cyre 5 0
Literature
Shine On Me
Sun shine on me.
Make me remember sunny days
When I was but a child at play…
Please…
Please sun, come out now and don’t hide
Remind me that life was on my side
No…
No…no…don’t falter your light
I’m begging you to remain in my sight
Because the sight of your orb…
The days when your warmth I’d absorb…
They give me peace
See I’ve been forgotten.
Everyone who has seen my face…
Everyone who has known my name…
They’ve gone now.
And you’re the only one that remains
You’ve seen me…
And I want you to shine so bright
Eliminating the last vestiges of night
Because the time of my death is near
Your light and warmth, I’ll forget, I fear
Oh sun, my sun…
Shine on me.
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Literature
I am
Think.
Don’t give up now, you’re so close.
Sorry, that’s the wrong answer. What do I have for you if you supply me with a wrong answer?
Death! Oh, yes, you are going to love this! You actually get to die. Your greatest curiosity sated. It’s going to be amazing. Ah…lucky you. I envy you.
I’m…I’m sorry? I didn’t hear that right. You, er, want to try to answer the question again? Is that correct?
My, my, my…you know, this is going to sound truly silly, but I don’t think I can do that.
I know…truly it is, as you say, outrageous! What kind of game doesn’t let you try again? I am absolutely crazy…yes, yes, agreed. However, the rules are as such.
Now, now, there is no need for that kind of language! I understand you are angry right now. Would you like to talk about it? Could it be repressed feelings for your step-dad?
Oh…Oh I see. You really are scared of death. Heh…Oh! No, I’m not laughing at you. You
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I'm trying to write more I promise!

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Literature
The Butterfly
He sat by the river plucking love me not petals
From flowers that never did him no wrong.
Rain threatened but he didn't care,
And went up scarring up nature.
Carved his name into a tree and next to it
Fuck you god.
Tossed jagged rocks to the water's depths
And rejoiced in the chaos they wrought.
Thunder claps shattered the silence he had worked to destroy
But he didn't care.
He didn't care when a butterfly
Perched and preached her beauty on that same tree
Burdened with his message.
But beauty breeds anger in such a soul,
So he shot out and crushed the butterfly's wings,
Smashed its soul.
Writhing in the dirt, he pulled out his lighter
And set fire to the animal's wings.
He watched and heard the spreading flame's shrill,
And felt the cool burn of a raindrop from the heavens.
He didn't care when his inferno fell to the falling rain,
For his work was done.
He wouldn't have cared had he not
Cared to look down at the husk,
Charred remains of vibrant color
Scattering in the rising wind.
And
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There is a place..
There is a place where balloons end up after they slip out of the hands of a little girl as she gropes for the string that slowly drifts further beyond her reach. Sometimes, balloons just become untied and slowly float away until they are out of sight.
Haven't you ever wondered where balloons end up once they easily glide out of the hands of lovers, friends, families? A place where moonlight shivers as it touches lost memories and licks the sweet shining fantasies only to be infected. So beautiful, so deadly. Memories like mercury in the moonlight.
There is a place sound goes when there isn't a soul around to hear it. A place rain falls and water rushes and trees snap. The air is thick and tastes of soft violets. Mirrors reflect space and the sky expands with the blink of an eye, opening the ground beneath you to a place you never knew existed.
That is where I live.
There is no Sun here. Light comes and goes. I live in the shadows of others' light. When someone blows out a candle, the
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deviantID

cyre
Cyre: The Precise
Artist
United States
Hi...I'm Cyre...which is pronounced "sigh-ree" not "sire"...I'm not your dad...

So it should be apparent to everyone that I write poetry. I love words because they're limitless and with the right amount of force and cunning you can mold them into anything you want...a weapon or a ballad or a tribute to something you love.

So if you're bored or looking for some words in motion have a sit, have a stay, drink some coffee or tea or cola (your preference) just...try not to drip any liquids on the poetry, eh?

Current Residence: Into the Shadows
Favourite genre of music: Um pretty much everything except rap (most times)
Favourite photographer: Several of them...actually
Favourite style of art: I prefer literature but I love all art
Operating System: Windows 7
MP3 player of choice: Philips GoGear 4GB
Shell of choice: The one I can kick the crab out of and wear...^.^
Wallpaper of choice: Something inspiring
Skin of choice: mine actually
Personal Quote: Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also
Interests

If Regrets Were Like Raindrops...

Journal Entry: Fri Mar 29, 2013, 7:30 PM
It seems that at the exact moment that things start falling down around your ankles, people either stick up for you or they melt away with their own best interests in mind.

How many people, authors and philosophers have postulated that people were only out for their own best interests? That most, given a choice, would make a decision based on what was best for them. My, but that does get heartbreaking when people who seem like stalwart allies lapse into the tide of people who were only in your life for a season.

It's fall in my world. Some people are like the roots of my tree, anchoring me steadily, slowly and unseen, to reality. They need no attention, no fuss, no mess. There are others like branches, then some like limbs, one hard storm is enough to break them...then I have leaves. The leaves turn color with the coming cold and they fall, scattering around me on the ground like a fallen tribute to what once was. Thus...fall.

They pop up in most hidden places, people who have been with you for years, gone. Its not so much surprising anymore but I would be lying if I were to pretend it didn't hurt.

"You wear your heart on your sleeve, Cyre." They say to me. "Fuck them! Who cares?!" And a myriad of many statements and would be positive encouragement as the leaves drift lazily to the ground. But it all seems the same...Maybe I do wear my heart on my sleeve, I have been accused of worse by better. Perhaps I should blithely rake up the leaves, bag them and toss them.

Occasionally, a new leaf will appear and you have such high, high hopes. You're tentatively trusting this new leaf to be something more than its predecessors....



If regrets were like raindrops...and heartache were a thunderstorm...

Silly notions of trust. Stupid notions. Its like a fast ride on a broken carousel where the colors blur and music seems off, the epitome of childish delight meets dilapidation of feelings and words, then just like that the grandeur of something that seemed so alluring has been bleached out by reality, the color draining like paint thinner on a masterpiece and I'm supposed to be okay.

"A few days, a few months, you'll be alright." But all it sounds like sometimes is, "Don't fix it till it breaks."


Heart on my sleeve indeed if this melodramatic, angsty rant is any indicator.


And thus we fade to winter.

  • Reading: Night~Elie Wiesel
  • Watching: TV is off
  • Drinking: Coke

Comments


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:iconcholie:
cholie Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2017
You are on my mind and in my heart.

Perhaps that's too cheesy or mushy for you, but it's the truth.

(Then again, I've always been quite the sentimental sap even though I tend to hide it.)

I sure hope you're doing well wherever life has led you.
Reply
:iconcholie:
cholie Featured By Owner Jul 6, 2016
still here, still missing you
still here, still wishing you the very best
still here, still wondering how you are
still here, still wondering how you've been
still here, still wondering where you've been
Reply
:iconcholie:
cholie Featured By Owner Jun 14, 2016
cholie wishes cyre the very best and hopes you're doing well.
Reply
:iconcholie:
cholie Featured By Owner May 27, 2016
cholie is in a perpetual state of missing cyre
Reply
:iconcholie:
cholie Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2016
still here, still missing you...
still here with you on my mind...
still here wondering if you'll return...
Reply
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