Creative Writing Prompt

[Thing One]

The sound of trumpets pierced the evening,
the ravens circled above,
the reaper stood nearby,
And the casket lay closed.

I had tears in my eyes,
but so did everyone else.
I felt so alone,
in the group of people.

They didn't know him,
like I had
I loved him,
when he still,
walked the earth

I still loved him,
thought he now lie,
with the earth.

Red,
white,
and blue.
Five shots,
ring through the air.

He told me,
he'd come back.
He lied,
Now he's lying,
in the Earth.

Wow, that is depressive ... but I love the way you kind of metaphorically wrote that last line, using the double meaning of that word ... Excellent!! I love it. (:

I thought i'd have to explain
Ok these people are hiding from a ruler who wants to kill them for some reason. The people after them managed to catch up but the men in this group decided to meet them in battle and give their families a chance, this is why the woman and children are all huddled in a cave waiting to hear something from the outside. What happened was the men were ambushed and didn't stand a chance so they all fought but they all died. They had such small children at the time not ready to travel, they were advised to not make a single sound because the plan was fight so they think they have defeated us and forget about the woman and children but because they couldn't contain their grief the soldiers after them heard them and found them. The groaning sound was a rock being moved out of the way of the cave entrance and then the soldiers slaughtered them all

Yeah i can't write happy things maybe its something i should get checked out

Also saying, in writing extension at my school ... um, yeah it was last year ... the teacher always made a joke of us all being chronically depressed because all we could ever write was sad things! I don't think it's just you, it's the new generation of dramatic things; I think depression can be very dramatic and is easier to write about for most people ... I know I'm like that a lot of the time. (:

[Pangolin]

The sound of trumpets pierced the evening,
the ravens circled above,
the reaper stood nearby,
And the casket lay closed.

I had tears in my eyes,
but so did everyone else.
I felt so alone,
in the group of people.

They didn't know him,
like I had
I loved him,
when he still,
walked the earth

I still loved him,
thought he now lie,
with the earth.

Red,
white,
and blue.
Five shots,
ring through the air.

He told me,
he'd come back.
He lied,
Now he's lying,
in the Earth.

Wow, that is depressive ... but I love the way you kind of metaphorically wrote that last line, using the double meaning of that word ... Excellent!! I love it. (:

Thank you very much! :3
I just started writing, I didn't really think about it. I get my best stuff done when I don't think - just write.

Yeah i can't write happy things maybe its something i should get checked out

Also saying, in writing extension at my school ... um, yeah it was last year ... the teacher always made a joke of us all being chronically depressed because all we could ever write was sad things! I don't think it's just you, it's the new generation of dramatic things; I think depression can be very dramatic and is easier to write about for most people ... I know I'm like that a lot of the time. (:

I am so much better at writing tragic stories, then ones with a happy ending. Guess we're a thread of depressed/ing kids, haha.

[Thing One]

Preeeeeetty much, yeah. (:

[Thing One]

Bump! (:

[Resin]

Well done everyone. (: I enjoy the different directions everyone is going in.

[Thing Two]

Yeah, I agree with resin, it's really interesting to see how everyone interpreted the promp.

Our next meeting at school is in two days, last chance to post your writing for this prompt.

[Thing One]

Uuuugh I can't get my poem right. I suck at long poems, from now onwards am gonna stick to short ones. Or perhaps have a unique (and easier) style to write in for long poems. I just can't keep coming up with new rhymes. o.o
How did Shakespeare do it.

[Weeping_Angel }Y{]

Uuuugh I can't get my poem right. I suck at long poems, from now onwards am gonna stick to short ones. Or perhaps have a unique (and easier) style to write in for long poems. I just can't keep coming up with new rhymes. o.o
How did Shakespeare do it.

how he did it, i'm not quite sure. I do know one thing though - sometimes the best poems are the ones that don't rhyme, so try it out

[Thing One]

Yeah, that's how I used to do poems, and I usually only do very loose and easy-going rhyming, occasionally none at all, but rhyming had been a focus in this particular poem. I will try again some time before Tuesday, perhaps have some rhyming and some not .... hm, actually maybe I should just stick with one way or another, thinking about it now. /:

[apathy,]

The sound of trumpets pierced the evening—it was a welcoming sign, to gather the villagers’ attention, to alert everyone that they had to stop what they’re going and go to the town’s center.

“Oh! The King and Queen! They’ve come to say something!” The squeal of the small child made the elder flinch, letting his features shift into a scowl while he continued to haunch over his papers and continue the homework he desperately needed to finish. He should have finished this last night—he had the weekend to do it.

“You should have done that last night, or the night before, like I told you to.” The stern voice of his father echoed throughout the house, sounding like he was sliding on his boots and gathering the children to leave the house.

“Oh hush; you were a teenager at one point, who does their homework on the first night of the weekend?” His mother’s voice cooed, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s go see what they want. Shall we?”

“But Mum—”

“Let’s go.” She cut him off, digging her nails into his skin. He groaned loudly, pushing himself out of his chair and walking briskly outside.

“Candi! Don’t run ahead!” His mother screeched, picking up her pace and chasing after the young girl. He didn’t care much for his half-sisters. But he was saying that from a brotherly side. Of course, if they were in danger at any point, he’d step in, claiming the role as the over-protective older brother. Everyone knew not to mess with them, not to even tease them unless they wanted to end up lying dead in a ditch. So, in other words, he kind of cared for them.

A sudden jerk of his hand pulled him out of his thoughts, he turned to the side of the assault; “What can I do for you?” He drawled eyes half lidded to further show his boredom.

“I just wanted to say hi! You know, you should honestly be happy to see me, I’m quite awesome.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” He coughed into his hand, a smirk placing his lips when he saw the girl pout. Her name was Cass; she’s had a crush on him since he was born basically. She had the blonde hair people who die for, the body of a goddess and the personality of someone who could befriend anyone. Everyone knew who she was, every girl wanted to be her, every guy wanted to be with her. Of course, she’d pine after Aaron, the guy that wasn’t cool at all, but he had the potential. He was sixteen years old, still growing into himself. He had recently had a growth spurt—leaving him with too long legs, and a lanky body. It was like learning to walk again, he kept tripping over things, and also his feet. His arms were too long, always underestimating the length from something when going out to reach for it. He was still the awkward kid, from being too short, to not even knowing how to control the limbs of his body. All the older women thought it was absolutely adorable, older women like Cass, who was eighteen years old, who was to be married to one of the nineteen year olds in the village. He could care less really, he hated everyone, and he just wanted to have some fun. But when he thought about it, he’d seem like some stupid fairy tale where he could just leave, whisk the beautiful princess off her feet and ride out into the distance—or Cass, which she would work just as fine.

But the thing is; he didn’t know what he wanted. That came with being a teenager, not knowing what you wanted to do with your life. His father was a black smith, owning the local black smith building in the center of town. His father wanted him to carry on the business, unless they had another son. Which, didn’t happen because they ended up with four girls. His mother was married once, and they had Aaron, apparently that didn’t work out, and got a divorce after he was born. He didn’t care. A couple years later, his mother re-married and had four girls. No boy—or a puppy. Lose, lose.

“Are you listening to me?!” Cass elbowed him in the side, gaining his attention once more.

“What?”

“I was saying! They are looking for an eligible male for the princess to marry!”

“That makes no sense, you know that right? You have to be of royalty. People say I’m stupid.” He muttered under his breath.

“Aye! I know, but if you were listening you’d know why.”

“This is stupid, why am I here?” He moaned.

“I was kidding, if you were paying attention you would have heard them say they are accepting people into becoming soldiers.”

“What?”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t sign up, would you? I mean, they’re planning an attack out on the Forts, and we both know the Forts are unstoppable. You’d die. I wouldn’t live with myself if that—” He stopped paying attention a while ago. This could be a way out, out of this miserable life. He could join and leave this place; he didn’t want to be here. The thing is, he didn’t know how to fight at all. He’d have to learn, they’d train them, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t send men in who didn’t even know how to handle a sword.

“We will be coming by tomorrow to pick up the males, right now, we are only doing this as an option. Later on, if we need more, we will be taking them by force.”

“I can’t believe they said it like that—like they’re just things they can throw away and take and take like no one would care.” He voice floated in the air, whipping through the air, making it to his ears but not registering.

He pushed through the crowd and up to the messenger, the cries of Cass echoing through the area. “I’m joining.”

It took a while for the sound of his family’s yelling to die down, and for the whispers of the village to stop.

--

Later that year they’d get a letter from the messenger saying how sorry they were that Aaron Peters died in war.

--

He found a way out.

[ cough, this is my writing prompt,
sorry,
this isn't how i even wanted it to go. xD
it writes itself.
hope it's okay?
it's not that good ;-;
i didn't know what to write.

edit; this was also like,
back then. but i didn't know any
language from that time, so lol.
just ignore the lack of knowledge
from that time era. ]