patchwork-wings

[patchwork-wings]

The artificer nodded excitedly, almost losing his glasses.

The witch looked him over suspiciously. "How many Redbulls have you had today?"

He held up all of his fingers on one hand.

"Frankie we've talked about-"

Then two on his other hand.

"For the love of the gods."

Prompt #6599

“So it’s a gun with a wand welded into the chamber? And every time the trigger is pulled, a spell is cast?”

[patchwork-wings]

Content Warnings

Hey followers! It occurs to me that I’m pretty inconsistent about using content warnings. I’ve seen them added on some reblogs, so I wanted to bring it up here. I’m entirely amenable to using content warning tags, headers, etc as needed.

I’m just not sure what needs to be tagged, and I know there are some fairly specific content warning tags out there. I think the most efficient way to develop a flagging system is to open the floor to you, my readers.

My asks are open, and anon is enabled. If you have a content warning you would like to see me use, please send me an ask letting me know what kind of content you need marked and the method you prefer to use to filter, and I will incorporate your request moving forward.

TL;DR: If you have a content warning preference, send an ask (anon or otherwise) letting me know what needs to be marked and how.

[patchwork-wings]

Thank you! I’m planning to do more with both of these characters in the future. My favorite thing about the superhero fandom on here is the widespread interest in seeing good villains, evil heroes, and everything in between.

Writing Prompt #804

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The hero’s nails dragged slowly across the metal, the sound rough and grating. “And here I was hoping you might actually change your ways.”

“Stay away from me,” he growled. “You’ve already locked me up, isn’t that enough?”

“We seek reform here, not simple punishment.”

[patchwork-wings]

Thanks for the fun jumping-off point! I might work these characters into my WIP.

Writing Prompt #804

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The hero’s nails dragged slowly across the metal, the sound rough and grating. “And here I was hoping you might actually change your ways.”

“Stay away from me,” he growled. “You’ve already locked me up, isn’t that enough?”

“We seek reform here, not simple punishment.”

[patchwork-wings]

He cursed as the chain around his ankle came up short, stopping his retreat. "Alright," he pled, "listen, I'm sorry. Starting today, I'm a new man."

She reached out, lightning-quick, and grabbed his jaw. He wished he'd known she was that fast when he'd made a break for it. "If the past month didn't prevent your escape attempt, why should I believe the past five minutes have changed you?"

"I don't think you realize how convincing you are at this exact moment." Her nails dug into his throat as he spoke.

She arched an eyebrow. "Very well. If you're a new man, then tell me your name."

That was a fight they'd been having since she'd locked him up the first time. His name was Alex. She'd insisted he call himself Dagger. He'd insisted she go to hell. He'd do time without complaining, but he'd rather die than let some self-righteous hero rewrite his identity.

Suddenly, with her razor sharp nails just a twitch away from drawing blood, he wasn't so sure.

"Well?" she asked, her grip tightening.

"Dagger!" He froze until he felt her grip relax. "My name is Dagger," he repeated.

She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded, releasing him. "Then get some rest. We'll resume rehabilitation in the morning." She turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment at the cell door. "But so much as speak out of turn, and I will make an object lesson of you in front of the other prisoners. Am I clear?"

He nodded dumbly.

"Good. Sleep well."

@promptsforthestrugglingauthor

Writing Prompt #804

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The hero’s nails dragged slowly across the metal, the sound rough and grating. “And here I was hoping you might actually change your ways.”

“Stay away from me,” he growled. “You’ve already locked me up, isn’t that enough?”

“We seek reform here, not simple punishment.”

[patchwork-wings]

This looks like fun - ask me a number with any details you want and I'll write some fic for you. I'm not terribly fandom literate, so genre/archetype requests may get better responses than specific asks.

Angst/fluff Prompt List

Please don’t repost (stealing isn’t cool, but reblog if you wish) <3 <3

“I love you, please don’t go.”

“Stay here tonight.”

“Please don’t walk out of that door.”

“I thought things were going great.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“You make every day worth living.”

“I’ll keep you warm.”

“I’m never letting you go.”

“You meant too much to me.”

“I won’t let you.”

“How could you ask me that?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.”

“You look amazing tonight.”

“Shouldn’t you be with him/her?”

“I’ve got you.”

“I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

“It’s late.  Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“How are you feeling today?”

“You look amazing tonight.”

“We’ll figure this out.”

“This isn’t goodbye.”

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

“Wanna go grab a drink?”

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Here, let me help you.”

“Kiss me.”

“I care about you.”

“You could have warned me!”

“That was unexpected.”

“You haven’t lost me.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t cry.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“You make me feel safe.”

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like.”

“Thank you, for everything.”

“All I wanted was for you to be happy.”

“I can’t do this on my own.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”

“Don’t be afraid.”

“You’re always on my mind.”

“You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

“You’ve always felt like home.”

“I can’t imagine this world without you.”

“Dance with me.”

“Trust me.”

“Why are you crying?”

“Who hurt you?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.”

“You make me feel alive.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

“Who cares about what they think?”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’ve always got me.”

“I’ve waited for this moment for a long time.”

“Is this okay?”

“You look like you could use a hug.”

“Did you need something?”

“Do you have a ride home?”

“I am home.”

“What happened back there?”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“Why me?”

“I’m right where I belong.”

“Fine.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?”

“You need sleep.”

“Excuse me?”

“What are you doing?”

“What did you expect?”

“You’re not alone.”

“We’re meant for each other.”

“You’re worth it.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“I’ve always been honest with you.”

“It’s cold, you should take my jacket.”

“Just breathe, okay?”

“When I’m with you, I’m happy.”

“Going somewhere?”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Don’t be scared, I’m right here.”

“You’re so adorable.”

“I’m better, now that you’re here.”

“I could never forget you.”

“Forget it.”

“That’s in the past.”

“You make me happy.”

“You’re more than that.”

“I won’t lose you too.”

“Come cuddle.”

“Can’t you stay a little longer?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I’ve had enough.”

“I fell in love with you, not them.”

“You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to.”

[patchwork-wings]

Her rival - Mr. Alderman, apparently - approached the chair the way the men in nature documentaries approach poisonous snakes. When he sat, he pulled his daughter's chair closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He beamed a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you... Ms. Gonzales, is it?"

"Yes," she said, with a pointed smile. "I'm lucky enough to have Emily for Math, Science, and Social Studies. She's curious, and a very quick learner. I plan to recommend her for our honors program at the end of the year."

"That's wonderful news," her rival said, "Though I expect nothing less from my little Shining Star." She thought she heard a moment of real affection in his voice, and Emily's face lit up with pride.

It took her a second to process. She couldn't reconcile the image of Heresy - the chaotic villain known for inciting mob violence and wearing excessive eyeliner - with the proud, sweater-vested dad in front of her.

"Well... yes, you should both be very proud," she said, recovering.

She saw his eyes shift, the same way they did when he was fighting. He was evaluating the situation, evaluating her. Then his stilted smile faltered. "That isn't what you called me in to discuss, though, is it."

"No." She took a deep breath. With any other parent, there would be no easy way to say this. But with Heresy? Telling him was liable to get the school burned to the ground. She looked to Emily, and steeled herself for a fight, if it came to that. "I called you in to make you aware of a situation that's come up in the classroom. Several of Emily's classmates have taken to bullying her during recess, and last week it escalated and she was shoved into the sandbox."

Heresy went rigid, and she could see the fury building behind his eyes. "What are their names?" he asked.

"I am not allowed to give out that information. I've called their parents, and they've been suspended for a week. Emily did the right thing by telling us, and we've taken corrective action."

"You're telling me that's justice? They hurt my daughter, and they get sent home for a week?"

Emily looked up at her father with worried eyes. Ms. Gonzales said slowly, "I'm telling you that's how the administration is handling this. This isn't a court of law, this is a school. We're in the business of teaching. When they return, they'll be enrolled in an anti-bullying course."

"But they'll be returning -"

"Mr. Alderman," she replied, looking him square in the eyes, "there's not a one of us in this room that hasn't benefitted from a second chance."

He froze, then shifted in his chair. "I want her to be safe. She can't be safe surrounded by enemies." His voice was quieter, but he returned her stare.

Suddenly, Ms. Gonzales' heart sank. He couldn't be suggesting that she'd be a threat to his child. They were rivals, but he had to know her better than that. "She'll be safe. I promise."

"She'll be safer in another classroom. Maybe another school altogether." He stood, holding out a hand to his daughter. "Come on Emmy, let's get out of here."

She watched them leave, then sighed, resting her head on the desk. At least her classroom was still standing.

Prompt #1576

She would have thought it was a hostage situation if not for the shock on the villain’s face. He pushed the girl behind his legs, placing himself between the heroine and his daughter. 

The heroine/teacher made a split second decision, and pasted on a welcoming smile. The kid was innocent, a sweet girl with a gift for maths and a lisp over the word ‘specific’, and she didn’t deserve to be embroiled in an adult rivalry. “Mr [Name], please, have a seat. Your daughter has been an exemplary student…”

[patchwork-wings]

I winced at the words, gasping for breath on the ground. She'd kicked me clear across the room, and despite my superhuman resilience, I was pretty sure she'd broken a rib. My sword lay a good ten feet away.

I corrected myself. Her sword. She owned every weapon in this room, and knew how to use them all. And as I stumbled to my feet and staggered towards the blade, against my better instincts and despite the pain, I realized I'd become a part of the collection.

Whump Prompt #116

“You don’t get to surrender. You lose when I say you lose, you win when I say you win, you die when I say you die. I haven’t said you can die yet. Pick your weapon up”

[patchwork-wings]

Free Samples

There’s a girl with a hole where her heart used to be. She holds a tray, like the people in the food court, with a sign that says “free samples.” The little paper cups are stained red, toothpicks stuck through hunks of raw meat. She’s almost out of pieces, and she’s afraid of what will happen when the last one is gone. She never learned to love without bleeding.

[patchwork-wings]

You cried for so long, you tired of wiping the tears away. You don’t remember how long you’d been down there when a tear rolled off of your cheek, splashing onto the lid of the vault. Another followed. You couldn’t bear the thought of facing your father’s judgmental stare, or your mother’s cold indifference.

After a long moment, you felt a flood of emotion surge through your link. Shock, anxiety, excitement... then relief. The emotion shifted to trepidation, then regret. Was the entity apologizing?

You realized why when the bond intensified, seizing your mind. The world around you disappeared as a series of images flooded your mind. Slowly, they became more coherent.

The room around you was transformed. The walls were intact, covered in intricate carvings and hung with tapestries. On the far end, where the floor had long since fallen way in your time, stood a dais. A figure stood before a throne of obsidian, tendrils of darkness rolling off of him like smoke.

The room shuddered. He watched mortar fall from the ceiling, his face hidden by darkness but his posture betraying resignation. 

Another crash brought part of the ceiling down behind you, and cold light spilled onto the flagstones. Shortly after, a cacophony arose as someone took a battering ram to the door of the great hall. Eventually, the oak gave way.

Men in archaic armor spilled into the room, led by someone who looked not unlike your father. “This is the end, monster. Yield and spare yourself.”

The figure at the throne looked around at the intruders, then dropped into a feral stance, roaring in an inhuman voice. Preternatural darkness spilled from his aura, blocking out the sunlight.

Your ancestor yelled a command. Somewhere in the darkness, fighting began. 

Screams rang out beyond your line of sight. Every once in a while, the floor would shake and you heard stone crumbling.  A young man fell in front of you, mortally wounded. You scrambled back, and were narrowly missed by a boulder that slammed through the flagstone in front of you.

Some time later - minutes or hours, you couldn’t be sure - you heard a woman yell a challenge. She charged out of the darkness and knelt next to you, her eyes distant and arcane words spilling from her lips. You studied her face. It was almost familiar. She drew a knife and scored her wrist, spilling blood on the edge of the hole in the floor. 

The moment her blood hit the ground, the darkness around you coalesced and assailed her.

Her voice became strained, and she screamed in the common tongue, “Thrice I bind you!” She fought a hand free of the shadows wrestling her and pressed it to the spot where her blood had spilled. “By the blood of my family, I bind you! By your name, Halfsable, I bind you! By my will in this moment of need, I bind you!”

One final time, the room shuddered, and all noise stopped. The darkness started to collapse in on itself, flowing towards the hole like water down a drain. As she was released, the woman fell to her side, exhausted. When the last scraps of shadow were gone, the sounds of the moaning wounded and the crumbling building came back. On the dais, a crumpled figure lied where the shadow-veiled man had stood.

Battle-battered soldiers ran to the fallen man, weapons at the ready. After a moment of watching him stir feebly, the one in charge barked an order and they set about binding him hand and foot. A soldier came to your side and bound the woman’s wrist. “Be sure you gag him,” the woman said weakly, “and pave over the hole once he’s inside. Ensure there is no way he can get free.”

The soldiers followed her orders, and dragged the bound man to the pit. She met his eyes, and snarled, “I trusted you. I won’t give anyone else a chance to make that mistake.”

The man’s eyes were pleading as the soldiers pitched him into the pit.

Your vision came back to find the room as it had always been. Your bond shrank to a trickle, and you could feel the entity on the other end. He - Halfsable - felt penitent, nervous, expectant. It felt like he was posing a question he wasn’t sure he should ask, or that you would answer.

Already shaken by your parents’ ultimatum, you weren’t sure how to handle this flood of information. Shakily, you stood and started to leave. You felt disappointment, then resignation, then silence as the bond closed.

***

Days later, you found yourself back in the ruined room. You sat on the grate, arms wrapped around yourself, feeling numb. Tomorrow, you would be married. You spoke to the grate like you always did.  “I tried everything. I said I’d go to an etiquette school, start attending balls. It didn’t work. I tried to be happy with it, even. He’s not bad looking, even if he has stern eyes.”

Tears welled at the corners of your eyes. “But I can’t be happy like this, can I? They wouldn’t even let me pick my own gown. I don’t want the rest of my life to be like this. I can’t do this any more.”

Nothing came across the bond. You felt desperately alone.

After a long silence, you found yourself thinking about what the woman said. You didn’t know much about magic, but the spell seemed simple, if powerful. It took until the eve of your wedding to admit it, but Halfsable was the only friend you had in the castle, the only one you confided in. Maybe if you freed him, he could help you.

It was a desperate thought, but then again, you were desperate. You had your knife out before the second thought came.

The woman said Halfsable had betrayed her, and you had no way of knowing how bad that had been. From the vision, it had been enough of an insult for your family to field an army.

But hadn’t your family betrayed you? Hadn’t they denied your every wish to betroth you for political convenience? Wouldn’t they do the same to your sisters, given the chance, and force your brother into the military?

You held your breath, and nicked your wrist. You barely scored yourself the first time, and started shaking as you tried again. This time, a thin trickle of blood fell onto the strange symbols in the floor.

The grate beneath you shuddered, and the bond opened again, flooding you with hope and confusion.

Voice shaking and small in the cavernous hall, you chanted, “Thrice I call you to me. By the blood of my family, I break your bindings. By your name, Halfsable, I break your bindings. By my will in this time of need, I break your bindings.”

Tendrils of shadow spilled out from beneath the grate, lifting it and you into the air. You flattened yourself against the metal as the darkness lifted it out of the way of the pit. Then, Halfsable’s magic receded.

You sat on the grate, transfixed by the intense energy spilling through your link. First you felt such relief that your knees went weak and you started to cry, then such intense vengeance that you shook with violent intent.

After a moment, you heard something clatter to the ground. Then there was the snapping sound of ropes fraying. Unable to shut the bond from your end, you watched dumbly as a dirty hand gripped the edge of the pit and Halfsable hauled himself up onto the flagstones.

He turned to you slowly. You looked for those eyes that had once pleaded with your ancestor, but his shroud of shadows was back. You felt more than saw him meet your eyes. He took a few steps towards you, and your own terror eclipsed his rage for a moment. You scrambled backwards.

He froze as if struck, and hissed. You stared at him as he heaved a rattling sigh. He coughed, then rasped in a voice that was beyond hoarse, “You... freed me... Child of the Witch. Tell me your will... old friend.”

It was to your credit that you’d always been quick on your feet. You knew as soon as he spoke the words that this may be your only chance to turn the course of your life, to take some power for yourself.

“Tomorrow, during the wedding, we take the house for ourselves.”

@write-it-motherfuckers

There’s tales about your house, of a monster that once lived there. Your ancestors had headed the cries of the people speaking of a great evil, and had cornered it in its home. Somehow, they had won, though the house was badly damaged, and as they were unable to fully kill the monster, they had it cast, bound and powerless, beneath the foundations of the ruined home. As a last display of their success, they had claimed the building as their own, and rebuilt the grand structure, on top of the creatures eternal resting place.

Everyone in your family knew the stories, though their belief in them began to fade over the generations. You had always found yourself oddly drawn to the story, and as a child, you would constantly sneak away from your nanny, just to explore the darkest places of your home.

One evening, having fled from a rather frustrated nanny while she was focusing on your siblings, you came across a small door, hidden behind one of the tapestries. Curiosity getting the best of you, you had crawled into it happily, torch in hand, the door a perfect size for your young body.

To your surprise, you had found an entire new level to the home, though it looked to be badly scorched in places, merely acting as supports for the floors above. Never having been afraid of dark places, you eagerly set about exploring, curious at the strange feeling in the air. 

It wasn’t long before you found it.

In the centre of the floor in what seemed to be the heart of the building, you found a large circular vault, set deeply into the ground and covered in symbols and designs. Somehow, you could feel that something was alive in there, something old, and it dragged up all your memories of the stories you were told. 

A feeling washed over you, and you knew that it was suddenly aware of you. Instantly, a boom sounded as the vault shuddered, startling you enough to have you racing back up into the main house, thoroughly spooked. Unfortunately, you were a rather stubborn thing.

It didn’t take all that long for you to muster up the courage to sneak away the next day, and go back down. Again what ever it was that was trapped, seemed to become aware of you quickly, once again making the vault shudder. This time however, you didn’t go far.  

Every time you would try to get too close, the vault would shudder again, as if trying to warn you away and scare you off, but eventually it gave up, a feeling of resignation floating in the air. With your fearless personality and never ending curiosity, you started to sneak down to the vault when ever you got a chance.

You’re not sure when you started babbling away or asking questions to the one inside, but either way, it became something of a routine over the years, though you never got a verbal reply. You had a feeling that they couldn’t reply, nor move particularly well, it often left you questioning just how complete their bindings were. 

Years later, now reaching adulthood, and still just as fearless and hard to control, you lay atop the silent vault. This place had become comforting to you, somewhere to hide from your cold family and the never ending rules. 

A wave of comfort rolled over you, as if they sensed your turmoil, and absently you wondered if anyone else in your family line had ever been able to feel the emotions of the creature locked within, or if it was simply something you made up in your head out of loneliness. Sighing shakily, you traced your fingers over the dusty symbols.

“They’re going to force me to marry.” You said finally, and at once felt all go still, the one within the vault listening intently.

“It’s crazy, especially in this day and age… but they’re not playing around. They already have someone picked out. Someone that can teach me some manners”  You murmured bitterly, mocking their tone of voice.

Something sharp and angry flared across your strange bond for a moment, before it once again went silent, the being within, trying to control their emotions. Silence fell again for a while, and to your shock, you realised you were crying, something you hadn’t done since you were a babe.

“I don’t know what to do….. I….I’m scared” You said honestly, voice cracking.

The vault shuddered below you, and you felt a tentative wave of protective comfort wrap around you. Sighing shakily, you decided to simply hide down here a while longer, where no one would find and hassle you. Slowly, you drifted into a restless sleep, tears still running down your cheeks, body curled up on top of the vault lid.

[patchwork-wings]

Story Grid Requests: Open

Hey everyone! I know it’s been a while since I’ve shared any prose. @buildyoursound and I have been focusing on pulling together some song demos, and we’re having a blast with #jamuary2019. 

But I’m thinking about getting back into the swing of long-form writing. I’ve always had trouble generating plots. Recently, @gravelessuniverse introduced me to The Story Grid as a way to plan and evaluate plot, and I’m planning to write some microfiction and short stories to practice filling out the grid and writing to it.

I’ll also be story-gridding other people’s writing, likely mass-market short stories and episodes from TV series.

I’ll be focusing on arch-plot and mini-plot dramas. My favorite external genres are romance, action, thriller, crime, and western. HMU if you have any requests for stories or grids in any of these styles.

[patchwork-wings]

“Gambler’s Fallacy”

I don’t see what you see in me This night will be more painful than it needed to be Taking your hand was a gamble - I’m making a mistake Because now both of us get to see how I break I’ve never found a burden that I can not bear But looking in your eyes has me running scared.

What use am I, some novice paramour, Two left feet, shaking hands, and my heart on the floor, I’ve been here before, I can tell you the ending - I’ll just break your heart, my hands were made for the rending, But I’m trained to bleed, I’ve been beaten down before, So don’t trust me with your hopes, just trust me with your wars Caught between love and war, and the coin’s showing hearts - Flip the thing over, darling - I’m good at this part.

Look in my eyes, to the grey room where I hide The countdown of hours in this limbo in my mind, Among the living, it’s been celebrated I wonder if they know the walls have been decorated With dissected dreams that I’ve rendered as art And hopes that I’ve shattered and scrapped for their parts, To be or not to be, and the scales tip to life  - Move me over, darling - I’m better on that side.

They say by light of day that everything is clearer Yet I can never meet the eyes of the person in the mirror There’s a chapter of Inferno dedicated to betrayal Sometimes I think “stranger” means someone I haven’t failed They say it’s better to have loved and lost, of course you know the rest, I’d rather say I feel nothing, spare you the trouble, it’s for the best. Debating truth and lies, and the jury’s without doubt - Change their minds again, darling - you know what I’m about.

I don’t know what you see in me This night’s been more painful than it needed to be Taking your hand was a gamble - I made a mistake Because now both of us have seen exactly how I break I never found a burden that I could not bear Until I looked in your eyes and noticed that you cared.

Written with @buildyoursound

[patchwork-wings]

“Collecting Butterflies”

I know that you’ve noticed her dance in the sky It must be for you, why else would it catch your eye With all its delicate passes and intricate colors It couldn’t be designed for any of the others She’s always been so beautiful, So charming, kind, and dutiful, Our little butterfly.

Never tell her what’s on your mind - just light the gaslight You’ll find that like a moth to the flame, she’ll soon alight And the moment her feet make contact with the glass Her every mystery is within your grasp She’s always been so beautiful, So charming, kind, and dutiful, Our little butterfly.

Pin her down, bring the scalpel, see what you find When you tear open the carapace of that vibrant mind After all, lepidopterology is such a civil hobby What’s a little dissection, between friends, over coffee She’s always been so beautiful, So charming, kind, and dutiful, Our little butterfly.

And once every secret that was once hers is yours Mount them on the wall like those who came before Because every thought that’s examined is safe Categorized and alphabetized in its case She’s always been so beautiful, So charming, kind, and dutiful, Our little butterfly

Written with @buildyoursound.

[patchwork-wings]

“SCREM 2 VOID”

The light at the end of the tunnel went out again Now I can’t find my way through this hell that I’m living in And I see in your eyes the same fear that would take me But I’ll be damned if you think that I’d let this fall break me And you’ll have to kill me If you want to watch me die Because I’m not going anywhere This is my battle cry

And at the end of the night I may not see the light But I promise you this I’m not done.

You can call me Defiance When hope is lost, call my name Cause we’re coming out swinging We were forged in these flames Cause it’s time to start fighting When we’re too numb to scream This may feel like a nightmare But a nightmare’s just a dream

And at the end of the night I may not see the light But I promise you this I will run

[inst.]

And at the end of the night I may not see the light But I promise you this I will run

[Outro, spoken] So, you stared into the void And the void stared back? Well, I say it’s time we made the bastard blink.

Written with @buildyoursound

[patchwork-wings]

“Man in the Arena”

The man in the arena Valiant of heart, I’m spending my self To practice my part Each day I strive forward, My devotion great, Because all know that daring Will lead you to fate

Chorus: I’m in the arena Can you taste the sweat And I’ll swear that I’m fine Cause I’m not dead yet I’m in the arena Can you taste the blood I’m baring my wounds May they lead me to god

Daring greatly I’ve known Neither vict’ry nor defeat Though I’m trapped in this circus With the sand ‘neath my feet Come now, send me your lions Your butchers and fiends, Give me glory to die for, Something to believe.

[Interlude]

The gates shatter open To free the enemy Too quickly I’m cut down By weapons unseen My knees hit the sand Judgement I await I live here or die here A servant of fate

[Chorus]

The crowd is too silent I am going numb I beg them for mercy But no verdict comes There’s no challenger coming The guards have all fled I am my own captor The fight’s in my head

[Chorus]

Here’s the final version! Written with @buildyoursound

[patchwork-wings]

“Something About Mazes”

I’ve found myself in a bit of a bind It all started the moment you first caught my eye And I can’t figure out how you wandered inside This secreted labyrinth I call my mind.

So help me or hurt me, whatever you will won’t say what I’m thinking, but I just can’t sit still I’m not sure how to handle these feelings of mine so I guess I’ll just stay here and try to get by.

I heard your song beckon from over the hedge, That night you got lost and slipped into the maze, But I don’t know how to ask if you’re looking for me - Or if I’d survive your voice calling my name.

So help me or hurt me, whatever you choose can’t tell which you’d rather, but I know I could use some respite from the way I’ve been feeling these days God, I wish that your smile wasn’t such a damn maze

The ever-gracious host, I’ll approach you one day, Your feet seem so sure, but do you know the way? I’ll let you find your own path, but silently pray, Hope against hope I’ll convince you to stay.

So help me or hurt me whichever you please I don’t know what you want, but I know you’re a tease I’m not one for fairgrounds or playing the fool But if the prize is your heart then I’ll play by your rules

Come inside, look around, and I promise you’ll find an impossible story of possible lies but if your story’s as wild as mine I bet we could have such a wonderful time.

With @buildyoursound

[patchwork-wings]

“Drifter”

It’s a desolate wasteland Between sea and sky Our bodies are fragile And spirits are tired But we’re not lost at sea Nor have we ever been All we need is this moment Driftwood, and a friend

Find me the sky And I’ll show you a star We’ll never be lost When they know where we are So our course is uncharted Destination unknown Maybe the journey Was always our home

So when hope fills your heart And you hear me sigh Take my hand, drifter Ask for the sky

With @buildyoursound