The Painting.

[Skippy 2466]

Nessa takes long swipes with her brush, decorating the painting with the designs of the river. After hours of perfection, she looks down at her work, and smiles. Nessa turns around, and sees white string hanging out of a chest. She reaches, and takes it out. Nessa takes the string, and ties in onto the painting. She then takes a crude nail, and, nails it into the wall. Her weak arms are sore. Finally, Nessa places the painting on the wall of Dawn's Bakery, and smiles.

[[ Edit: I added "Nailed the painting on the walls of Dawn's Bakery", so people could RP looking at it, and such. ]]

[V0idsoldier 1139]

*Rusen walks up, his head hung low, a faint blush resting upon his face. Hiding his nervousness in his book, he gets absorbed in its pages, reading poems and such. Without thinking "Wham" he ran into the wall, his book smashing his face. Stumbling back, he would fall right on his rump, looking up sadly to see what hit him, only to be struck by sheer awe.*

"B...B...B... Beautiful" *He would utter, hardly able to let the word flow from his mouth, yet trying so hard to. Staring in sheer awe, complete mystery surrounded him. "Who painted this" "Where are they." He questioned within his mind, his nervousness fading briefly. Immediately he would stand up, getting another look before awkwardly repeating himself*

"B...B...B... Beautiful" *Walking away he would quickly go to find his chest of paintings and poetry, swiftly running back and pinning his up near it, coupled by a poem.*

Memories

Memories cloud my sight, whispering in my ear. Have no fear.

They drench me in sorrow, no tomorrow, a timeless night full of nightmares and demons

Who was I? Who am I? Will I ever know? Nostalgia galore, I am weary and alone.

Prone to dissatisfaction and hate, fate be damned your broken and cruel.

Memories of pain, of love and of lust, of dreary woes and broken bones, cruelty held me.

Rusen, my name, but is that who I am?

Can one be forgiven for their forgotten sins?

Is a bad man bad when their pinned to the floor and begging for mercy?

Who was I? Who am I? Will I ever know?

*The poem seems out of place, and yet at the same time so fitting. Stumbling back, his would blush bashfully, hiding his face beneath his hair and in his book, walking off shyly*

[Skippy 2466]

Nessa sees Rusen stumbling out of the Bakery. She walks in, and peers at the wall, and notices the painting & poem. A tear runs down her face, and walks out.

[V0idsoldier 1139]

*Rusen swallows as he stumbles out of the bakery, the first time showing his work publicly, almost on the verge of tearing up. He blushes more but hides his head, sitting nearby and watching, waiting, anticipating her next show of work, hoping to trade work once again. Taking out his quill he would begin writing a poem.*

[Skippy 2466]

Sits on her bedside at her farm house in Salvus, thinking of the poem. She looks to the chest, and opens it, taking out a parchment, and a feathered pen. She begins to write something, elgantly.

The farms,

the rivers,

They are as beautiful as the mysterious moon.

The farms; with their elegant beauty of life, as the plants grow.

The rivers; always moving, energy emerges from it.

How they both draw me closer, they are my reason to be.

Nessa then curls up the parchment, walking to the Bakery. She walks in, closing the door behind her.

[[ I'm bad at poems :[ ]]

[V0idsoldier 1139]

*Rusen hurriedly finishes off his own poem, understanding her style, and wishing to play with it, despite not being comfortable with nature poems. He smiles and does the final line, hoping he doesn't run into her on the inside as he heads inside, his poem resting firmly in his book of poems. It is written in a gorgeous red ink, with a beautiful quill.*

Early morning light.

To sit atop the hill, the sun rising to meet your demands.

A smile, flowing from ear to ear as gentle as the crystal lake below.

The faint smell of roses, and camellias, an ocean of beauty running on the hill, vibrant colors. Sensation to my eyes, excitement, emotions.

Such beauty, gorgeous, what hath one deserved to live in such serenity.

The sky, as blue as the bluest of waters, majestic, her creatures in shapes.

One cloud speaks to me, calls to me, looks to me. My inspiration.

*Rusen frowns slightly, having all the confidence in the world before he made it to the door, and now back to his same nervous self. A bashful smile resting on a blushing face, pure and innocent. Breathing in and out heavily, he suddenly is not so sure of his poem either. Opening his book for guidance, he reads the words on every single one of his pages "Just do it" Resting firmly atop each page, a reminder to him to believe in himself. Sighing, he gently opens the door, looking left and right for where to put his poem.*

((No one sucks at poetry. It is what comes from the heart, what is natural and beautiful. Everything has beauty, and frankly I think the poem was great.))

[Skippy 2466]

Comes back to the bakery, the next day, to meet another poem. She smiles at the careful strokes of each line, and the beauty of the words. She leaves the bakery, in a hurry. Back to her home, to write once again.

[V0idsoldier 1139]

*And then, Rusen stood there. Fascinated dearly by her work of beauty, in sheer awe at everything he stares at, and in his hands, many poems and paintings. Blushing tremendously, a bashful smile and his legs quivering*

"I..I... I cant" *He whispers to himself, stuttering from nervousness, wondering what the other unknown person thinks of his work, he feels the urge to put his poems up, as soon as he does he runs out, hiding his head as if in shame.*

Lust or love. Guidance is sought. Hope is earned.

My tears have stained my eyes.

Sorrow fills me. My heart broken. Why is this?

My blood has stained my skin.

Strength. Weakness. The difference a thin line.

My soul has stained my mind.

My fist clenched. My blade sharpened. I am ready.

My lust has stained my body.

What happens when you take all a man has away from him?

My sorrow has stained my heart.

My strength unleashed. My emotions open. I am ready.

My trust has stained my life.

I open my heart to the pain, I welcome it.

Kick me when I am down, you only make me stronger.

Lust or love. Guidance is sought. Hope is earned.

My tears have stained my eyes.

My blood has stained me skin.

My soul has stained my mind.

My lust has stained my body.

My sorrow has stained my heart.

My trust has stained my life.

Kick me when I am down, you only make me stronger.

Sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I wander. My soul is free.

Do you love me?

When we touch. When we clutch. I feel a rush.

Is it lust?

Grip my heart. Bite my tongue. Clench my fist.

You make me crazy.

Beautiful. Deep. Strong.

You are me.

Without you I am weak, without you I am pointless.

You make me.

My feelings for you

Butterfly's fill my stomach, the best of the best is not good enough for you.

A princess, a queen, perfection in your own right.

Beautiful, sweet, calm and nice, what hath thy done that could ever be wrong?

Sinless and innocent, there is not enough words to describe how I feel.

When I see you, nostalgia hits me, love fills me, my heart beating and my hand clenched.

Your lips so soft and fragile on my skin, the feel there long after your lips aren't.

I've never felt this way before, my breath heavy, my heart heavier, you take my breath away

Sweet kiss

As gentle as the wind upon my cheek, your kiss as sweet as sugar

Feelings flow through my body, a rush, excitement, emotions.

Your kiss, that of a Aengul's, perfection.

This feeling, so foreign, yet so natural, welcoming as all.

A spark of love, of life, of satisfaction. Sheer attraction.

Your kiss as sweet as the sweetest wine, pressed to my lips, lost in time.

Parade around me, enjoyment, joy.

*Doesn't make it clear who he is talking about in the three poems, but they seem filled with passion*

[steelersfan1221 300]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.