billysheers

Inspired by the streaming-conscious, moment-in-time art of Mel Moratis, aka BlackTalonArt, as seen in another of her great renders, Take it Easy. ...and yet with her still.... After scrolling a message on the wall, she turned on the stone perch and sat still. ...cryptic bread crumbs for those of her clan, following not but a day behind now at most. She'd not have much time to rest...yet she was weary, so weary... but knew she must push on. So much depended on her success... so many who now looked up to her. Then it really hit her.. she was leading them now... leading them all.... And yet, how could such a thing have come to be?-- she almost asked aloud.. ...as if someone were there to listen.... as if someone were there to answer her inner most thoughts.... Mother had always said I'd have purpose, she said to herself. "You have a place in destiny", she had always said. But I was so young then. Those were just words... What could it possibly

from a most disturbing render by the esteemed artist, Ikke46, here, her Black Thorns Dark thoughts sprout blossoms rooted deep from within No escape from the lure of such sweet beckoning.. I gave up another though her heart had been true.. And all promise of yet unfulfilled life just for you. The scent of.. the taste of.. the texture of your skin.. Ho hint of the horror from that of your kin. The ache and the torment did but pique my lust more.. You prey'd me, you slain me, left me chained to the floor. Down deep your dark dungeon, dire, doomed and disgraced All heart emptied out for the one who was chaste. I wail on the hour, I cry out at my plight... And yet... I beg of you, mercy, grant me just one more sight.

a short vignette inspired by a haunting RGUS render, titled Kathy of the Moors Heathcliff and the Bleating Ewe Outside in the stilled distance, Heathcliff pulled some brambles from the cuffs of his pants. He hadn't heard the ewe's bleats for some minutes now, and in the fog and the endless thickness of the moor, even he who knew this maze of briar so well had lost his way... And then the lamb had gone quiet. Silence all around. No need to search further. The wolf had found her first. And so Heathcliff had found this lichen smoothed rock, and just sat down. He tried not to think of the little lamb's last moments...and yet, something in him over the years had given some sympathy to the wolf's hunger, too. When the fog cleared from above the ground, it left a low ceiling of cloud cover that seemed almost near enough to touch. It brought a sense of enclosure into view, and drew your eyes up to it easy, like a ceiling's rafters. ....like the way his mind as a

a vignette inspired by an intriguing render from the artist randalthor2 over at the Renderosity Gallery, entitled Are you Quick Enough?, linked here Bella had no choice. Slowly, she lifted her thumb up and carefully off the back of her modified Glock 19. No voice yet broke the silence. The barrel of a modified scatter gun planted firmly against the back of her head was doing all the talking now. She dared not let herself be seen smiling, but couldn't help marveling to herself how quickly she had gone from being the pursuer to being the prey. And although she had never seen her in person, Bella knew full well that it was none other than the legendary rogue assassin, Margo Cavendish, who had cornered her like a hungry alley cat, down here in the hotel's utility room. Now Bella loosened, then removed her trigger finger, knowing well both actions were being carefully watched. The gun was just hanging now by her middle finger, still formed in a hook to cup the

Inspired by SirTancrede's wonderful character, and a setting in which she finds herself, entitled A Baroque Fairytale 003, linked here. Gothic Part 1 The moment Josette escaped from the raucous ballroom, and the heavy door of the neighboring library had shut firmly behind her--silence all around. Her own breath in a heavy sigh of relief was the only sound she could hear. Inside, she found herself in the largest library she could have ever imagined. Far bigger than anything she had frequented in her small college. More like a museum of oversized tome binders was this one, with its double height shelving along the walls that went straight up into darkness, and muffled all sense of sound. And as if to emphasize the emptiness and absence of party revelers, the only other person in the room was a life-like marble statue of classical man, a sculpture to which she had been oddly entrapped. Apparently now, alone this darkened, vaulted library, she found herself unable to leave, and so

A vignette... inspired by the oh-so-satisfying pin up artist twosheds1, and his delightfully intriguing render, entitled Me Time, seen here. Me Turn Margo had been gone for a long time....at least in terms of having a guest waiting in the other room, that is. And she had been gone far too long for a quick toilette visit and yet still to remain politely excused for an abrupt absence from her own high tea, that's for certain. ...unless she was having a health problem or something, of course. And so her new friend, Nathie, was somewhat put on the spot, as it were. That having been sort of abandoned in the middle of a rather spirited, first- conversation back in the living room ....about, well, about all kinds of subjects Nathie was in agreement with in this budding new friendship, ....but had now arrived, after these too many moments, at place where she thought she should be concerned--or at least a little hurt to have been so easily left ignored--here in the

upon viewing a render by the talented 3D artist and superlative vendor, Prae. See Reine , here. She, Love-Assassin Her lure, a calmed sea Red autumn death trap disguise Soul smoothed, turns entranced Pounding heart silenced Leaves freeze still my captured breath Her bared shoulders.... sear Guard downed....stung and lanced Will cannot hold fast this heart Death become blissdom. See Reine , here.

just because I've been drawn back repeatedly to this amazing portrait, Soft Hair, by Ikke46 Soft Hair Clearing through bookshelves, stacks of my dread, Rabbit-eared chapters of life in my head. I remembered this face once, dust covers the name She lived in my soul once, now she lives in this frame. Soft hair, distance'd eyes, ennui between her sighs Whisper in her perfect ear a plea for mercy But remembered sighs won't free you from your place of love-fail controversy Smooth skin, wet lips, love-awaiting fingertips Linger in a moment's anticipation But heartache finds no solace behind a look of monochromed resignation. Rifling through titles in search of my past If I could just go back to where you bookmarked us last... I'd remember your face if you'd whisper my name, Once lived on such moments no page now contains. Soft hair, horizon'd blind, love's promises left far behind Whispers 'Never fear that I will leave you' But spoken now by just some photo'd frame that guests

....from an intriguing render by DeepSwing76, linked and titled here: Taking a bath in the river Part I The Primordial "simply primordial..." she thought to herself. "..and this must be why everyone raves about dreaming in color," she continued. So finally it was happening to her..... or was it...? until after a moment she turned 'round... She shook her head. It was lovely to be sure, like nothing she had ever seen before. "But aren't dreams supposed to come from your head or after watching some scary movie?" ...but she just couldn't wake up. Looking back at the shore.... "that's so odd, where are all my friends..?" Just then she was wishing they'd gone to Tampa after all. "Who Spring Breaks in the Ozarks, anyway?" That had to be the dumbest idea ever. And still she could not wake herself up. "Must have been all the absinthe", she concluded. Next time I'll just stick to Miller Lite." The solitude of this place was beginning to feel

on Sarsa's Heart On Her Sleeve It did me no good, buried deep in my breast. It ached and tormented and left me no rest. It swelled when I met him, poured into my soul. Bereft and abandoned, it died like a coal. Did you not see it..! Just now, it did move..? A beat for lost lover, horse foot with no hoove. ....on Ikke46's Beauty Spot Ladybug My thoughts went there to kiss her. Green eyed deep summer twister. I worked my way around her mouth, but squeamished me her blister. ....on Ikke46's Eyeliner "I, liar," meant her words to me ...no matter where our chat went. She dodged. She feigned. She looked upset. But never had the truth met. on Drink! by romofrog No.... don't. Don't drink from that cup....don't do it. Her brew of enchantment is but cup of device. She Sorceress, she Siren, she Serpent of Night. Now listen me well, for soon she rears up, Lest not you survive for the morrow . The plans that she has are plans that she had For he who walks