AmadanDubh

Hunt with me.

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Submission by AmadanDubh, literature

DILIGAF by AmadanDubh, literature

Apathy by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Apathy

Thundering down the long dusty road The beast growled and his eyes glowed Kicking up a trail of dust Scent of blood igniting his lust Descends the lands around him to A river wide with fjord through To other side where waiting calmly His prey, his quarry, sitting harmlessly They seem not to notice the approaching doom The churn of dirt, the engines that vroom Mad with apathy the rider sits Thinking of home and his wife’s tits The beast grinds on and the prey looks up Only to see that he’s not going to stop Until the prey is dead, split in two

Further by AmadanDubh, literature

A Shell by AmadanDubh, literature

Another forgotten thing by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Another forgotten thing

Your touch sets fire to the skin, Melting flesh from aching joints. Drive me crazy, watch you tease, Fueling furnace stoked within. Mouth agape I write, your hand points, Towards which I strive through this din. Ne'er have you failed to disappoint, In sacred times such as these, The bright and white, the dark and dim. Not even reaching my midpoint, I love the life I'm living in.

Adam's awakening by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Adam's awakening

Adam's awakening “C’mon boy, let’s go find somewhere to crash”, he said casting his gaze over the grassy mounds around him. Adam had been alone for a while. It had been nearly three months since he last met another human being and what seemed like an eternity since one had been a decent person. The world sure did strange things to the survivors still wandering the devastation. Adam walked along the road, little more than broken gravel with grass and tree roots growing up through it, and came to a low wall. It looked to be the remnant of the wall of a building and he reckoned

The Darkness of The Mind by AmadanDubh, literature

Red by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Red

Red stepped through the door of granny’s house at her call. It was late, moonlight streaming forth through the unshuttered north eastern window, and she was surprised that Gran was still awake. Gran was sitting in front of the fire with knitting needles and wool in lap, staring into the flame. “Come closer dear, my eyes are not what they used to be”, croaked she hoarsely and Red approached. “Gran, your voice is different”, Red said quietly, almost at a whisper to which Gran replied, “oh, I've a small cold but you needn't worry about that, lass”. Saying this, the wolf sprang from the chair and lifted r

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Another forgotten thing by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Another forgotten thing

Adam's awakening by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Adam's awakening

The Darkness of The Mind by AmadanDubh, literature

Red by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Red

Flowers by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Flowers

Smoke blew acrid across the Field Dark mound marred the grass A lone Voice cries out to be healed Feebly is it cast Muffled Echoes play sly games With the ears of they Who marched under banner of James Until that fateful day As they came forth from Forest Deep Into clearing wide With weighted Promises to keep In the scores they died Rent flesh from bone and bone from Soul The Lukiel did fees Devouring men both great and small They satisfied their need Flowers of war grow many here Amiddst the Crimson Sands The beasts of Deep come no longer near Where tattered banners satnd

Sacrifice by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Sacrifice

Bleeding, dismayed, half conscious, half flayed He lay in the dirt quite covered in hurt As the conqueror stood proudly overhead Soon he thought soon I will die And will she mourn me for long after I'm dead Time for this soul stopped for him then An unscathed mind wandered back to when In the cosy warmth of his den An equally warm lass dwelt therein He mused at the semblance between love and war Both are lessened and can be so much more The two are dually virtue and sin Thus are most things Her arms wrapped around him from behind The scarf on the wall soon rendered him blind And all was warm as those two became one But for the

Fallen by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Fallen

Will you fall for me as I did for you Stumps of wings ablaze and halo askew A fiery streak blazed across the night sky And streams of molten diamond did I cry. Walk amongst the freed I now do Everywhere I look I see you But always mocking is the sight Taunting me, melting the cool night. Will you fall for me my little one While the rest of the world comes undone For you I fought and for you I fell Come comfort the fallen, inhale the smell And lose yourself to the final frenzy Unshackle but bind and be set free

Scarlet kisses and dark mistresses by AmadanDubh, literature

Literature

Scarlet kisses and dark mistresses

Some days the world seems a whole less real No tender caress of caring bodies feel Only the kiss of cold death steel Under the pale moonlight Through tunnels dim and damp one roams Creatures dark and cruel mouths that foam No longer is this place a home It's just not feeling right From black to pitch and further still A lonely road where one might kill Another one and never feel Anything past first fright But lo and behold the stories half told And though as one wanders and becomes old If fall one doesn't then instead grows bold In search of sacred light

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The Happiest Man by fair-melodies, literature

Is It Love? by brokenxbeauty, literature

Literature

Is It Love?

If I hugged you, would you never let go? If I kissed you, would you cherish that moment? If I reached for your hand, would you take mine gently? If I needed a shoulder, would you let me cry on yours? If I needed to talk, would you really listen? If I needed to scream, would you do it with me? If I needed to go, would you come with me? If I fell for you, would you catch me? or just let me hit the pavement?

Third degree by FadingGrin, literature

Literature

Third degree

This feels like a time when I should say 'I love you' I won't, don't worry Not because I don't, mind. Love you, I mean. But I can hardly say I know you and you of all people know that sometimes love, no matter how grand, is just not enough. How do I know this? Truth is, I don't. I'm so full of it. Not shit, except on occasion, but love. Lovelovelove, churning madly inside my ribcage. Burning me when I give it to someone, burning me when I don't. Burningburningburning, searing my bones, cracking my skin, boiling my blood. But you don't understand passion, do you? Affection, yes, fascination, most certainly. But not passion. You've neve

Dremmwel by kuljeksivajumala, literature

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About AmadanDubh

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Artist // Student // Literature

June 3
Australia
Deviant for 14 years
He / Him

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My Bio

Right, a bio...Firstly I hardly see the point for the 'art' is the interest not the person but
for those who wish to know some assorted 'facts' about the author behind it all, prepare to be humoured.

I am a human being unlike any other, there is (regrettably) only one of me. I can just imagine what two of me could do; it would be truly wondrous and oh the fun we could have. I'm a writer, currently studying at university, although my creations posted here don't really reflect that. I also draw (usually attempt to for a week) but in truth I sort of suck at it so never really pursue it for more than a week or so out of every six months.

I guess if I were asked to describe myself I in a paragraph it would go somethng along he following lines: I am a freely noble individual with the utmost respect for the worthy and damning scorn for those who squander their humanity. I have the most wonderful sense of humour (quite literally the epitome of Australian humour in which we are seen to laugh at even the gravest of event or topics) and also I'm a hedonist, both intellectual and physical, am on quite good terms with my subconscious self and embrace all that life throws my way or should say, that I seek out and take for myself. I can be kind, compassionate, vibrantly alive and utterly candid as well as arrogant, self righteous, insensitive and cruel. (ooo this is getting fun now, self examination and all) I have a strong tie to the world around me, enjoy long walks on the beach...that's a joke, I prefer the forest...and acknowledge many things. Nothing really bothers me anymore, although it used to, I having fixed that problem only recently. There lays within my heart/mind/spirit complex/distortion an unquenchable loyalty to my spiritual kindred and as with all human beings, I seek more. At times there arise dark moods but they are always fleeting and passing, just as the stormy days on this earth.

I also find an almost disturbing amount of amusement at how much people on the internet believe. Although the above is more or less true ;)

If you're a watcher then thanks, if not and you found some amusement in my work then watch. The more watchers the more I'll try to write and please you folks. After all we live to serve and motivation helps.

Hunt well and thrive!

Favourite Visual Artist

Conan/Robert Sinclair, H.R Giger, I'm sure I have a couple of others and there's the DA ones of course

Favourite Movies

Pan's Labyrinth / Princess Mononoke / Waking Life and...others

Favourite TV Shows

Adventure time / Invader zim / Sword Art Online

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

I sort of like all 'good' music

Favourite Books

oh, there is quite some list :D

Favourite Writers

Robert frost, Ryan Musgrave-evans, Julian may, myself and the list goes ever on

Favourite Games

crash bandicoot! The first 3 of course as they are classics ;p

Favourite Gaming Platform

Pc...It's just downright superior in all aspects barring the fact that consoles occasionally hoard the rights to certain awesome games :/

Tools of the Trade

Mostly words and sometimes, I even just weave tales vocally on the spot although that sort of skaldic behaviour is quite rare

Other Interests

Self improvement, pursuit of curiosities, balanced health and fueling the current social revolution...fuck you prism or whatever you're currently called. RECORD THAT MOTHERF******.....sorry, I get a little annoyed that some small people can't grow up

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AmadanDubh

Aug 27, 2014

Now then

0 min read

Well, what an extended stint away from writing creatively it has been! Tonight I sat down for the first time in a long time and wrote something other than essays, reports or the myriad other manifestations of slave labour and redundant information regurgitation which the educational institutions require. My was it fun to pour some of the backlog out onto a page and feel the exhilarating rush of creation for it seems to me that if there were a God/god(s) then he/she/it/they must feel the same way about our world. Quick disclaimer though, I don't believe in a personal god of any type but let's not talk of theology as that's an oft sticky topic

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AmadanDubh

Nov 11, 2013

Time hungers

0 min read

So it would seem to me that this journal is my way of leaving things behind. I want them to be found, to be read and I also want a record for personal use. This serves both uses as upon reading back over these I can, using my memory, see what was happening and why I wrote what I did. I have considered that it is simply a reflection of a human seeking some connection with others of his kind but this doesn't seem as likely for my frequent bouts of isolation and solitude reflect a need for space. But then again, we never were a very bright species nor did we make much sense. I think this is ok, I don't much fancy making too much sense, far too m

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AmadanDubh

Aug 1, 2013

writing and Aus spiritualists update

0 min read

So, nothing new has popped up for a while for a couple of reasons. Mostly it's because I'm inherently lazy and was on my semester break but also, of late in particular, that I've been working on my major piece which is a hard copy for the first draft because, believe it or not, I actually find that a hard copy is easier to edit than a digital copy. I mean how many digi drafts do you see with scribbled notes of pure genius in the margin due to some sort of dare I say divine influence, more like a serious chemical imbalance, on a long, dark, tea filled night of the soul. Then there is my particular style of writing. Some writers take the end fi