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HeroInside his chest
there was a hole
where a heart
could perfectly fit
As he took his long strides
he seemed to boast with pride
yet something looked wrong
what could it be?
He was not a fake
he was as real as Mycroft's cake
on the outside he stayed together fine
while his insides were lined with anxiety that seemed to crawl up his spine
He stood with a frown
at the center of town
high above everyone's view
this was new...
Then he was gone
his coat tails so long
flowing behind him
looked like wings
The body laid astrew
as the blood puddle grew
I just couldn't believe this was true
it couldn't be...
He used to be free
to solve mysteries with glee
I always knew he was amazing
so why didn't he?
With that signature look in his eye
"I'm not a hero!" he'd cry
But he was always just that
ReichenbachOnce upon a time in a kingdom united,
The angels and the demons so furiously fighted.
They battled on concrete, traffic lights and jewels
And belived they were better, although they were fools.
Up in the tower the devil began his plan
For the angel to suffer, and so the angel ran.
Whispers from knights at a round table
Stopped believing in the poor angel's fable
The genius was broken; there's no going back,
One name with a reference to Reichenbach.
But what's in a name, my darling, my dear?
Moriarty or Brook, there's still plently to fear.
And he stood on the roof with the sun in his eyes
And the devil was waiting to say his goodbyes.
Three people, three bullets, but this is so dull;
The devil left this world with a hole in his skull.
It dawned on the angel what had to be done.
He flew from the roof in the morning sun.
For a moment he faltered; he felt he was flying
Whilst the doctor on the pavement began 3 years of crying.
His body was broken and the angel was go
The Reichenbach FallThe Reichenbach Fall
Together they fell
Through the dark abyss
Of heaven and hell
Rivers of red
Rivers of blue
It was a great fall
I'm telling you
Tears of loss
Tears of sorrow
It made one man
The Spider weaved his web
of hate and gore
And the Reichenbach hero
Was a hero no more
MachineYou fought for so long,
In a war paved with isolation.
You hold your head high and appear so strong,
But I see the wary hesitation.
Your eyes are so cold and your words bite,
But do they see the sadness there?
I can tell you've not been treated right,
Because no one had thought you'd care.
They say you're made of steel.
A man without a heart.
A machine who couldn't feel,
So why does it tear you apart?
You care and it's eating you away;
But it's easier to bury the things you feel.
It's better to keep disappointment at bay,
Than to nurse your wounds to heal.
So you let them believe the lie.
Never to show what you've been through.
They may scorn and pass you by,
But I believe in you.
Dear SherlockDear Sherlock,
I know you won't get this, being dead and all, but I just want to write down everything that you've put me through in the last three years. Just to get it off my chest. Help me tie off loose ends and move on, without having you in my mind. I have to let you go. Even though I can still hear your words, your voice.
I remember having a conversation about you with Lestrade:
"You know he's was never a real person." Lestrade said behind him.
I never believed those words.
"He was just a machine, in the form of a person. We all knew this is how it would end."
I shook my head, knowing Lestrade was already out the door by the fading of his footsteps.
"He was the most real person I knew." I whispered to myself.
I still saw my therapist. She said it would be over soon, the mourning. She said I should move, get a new place, but I never bothered. I have enough money to stay in the flat. My family sent me some, and Scotland Yard chipped in after your death; even your brother sen
THE REICHENBACH FALLThe
Heavy 'thump' of a body colliding with hard concrete,
Earth-shattering in its
Resonance, echoing with finality. Nothing
Exists but the
His best friend, unable to do anything
Except stare, heartbroken, as the paramedics take the former away. The
Nauseating image is
Burned into the survivor's retinas. He closes his eyes to block it out, but it only
Acts as a
Cinematographer's screen, playing out the
Hellish scene of his
Friend's fall over
And over again. He visits the modest grave
Later, begging the deceased for one
Last miracle; "... Sherlock... Don't be... dead."
Dead Man's SwitchIn control, then not -
Sudden loss of grip.
Headlong to where?
Details lost, smudged, streaked.
Careening; no system of
No dead man's switch,
On a fast track -
With or without a god?
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More