| Some of my drawings |
Newest
Sick of LifeSick of lifeSick of Life
Harry Drouged was quite frankly sick of life! He was leaning over the little bridge that brought passage over the river Thames, not the big river up by London, but where it was smaller and not as fast, it was still big enough to kill a willing victim however, Harry was probably the best size for such a death, small and stock, on the pudgy side. He did not discard the idea of sweet death immediately, he let it roll about in his mind, the possibility of peace, but then he would allow his wife the satisfaction of knowing she could spend his hard earned money without his persistent moaning. "Oh but Harry, I am just
by ~LordLeonidus
Vestiges of deathVestagesVestiges of death
We are the last, Believers of a once eternal religion, Once a massive worldwide power, Now in scattered pockets, Of friendly resistance.
Of which I am the largest, we keep together, In perfect equilibrium, Ying and Yang, While we uphold the religion, The religion upholds us, Keeps us together and in common.
I will never give up the vestages of religion that I still understand. I love being a catholic too much! I know the truth.
by ~LordLeonidus
The Beaten TrackThe beaten trackThe Beaten Track
I travelled off the beaten road, Through the golden fields And to the forgotten forest, Balancing along Saxon walls, Coated in soft moss and lichen.
Up to the old oak tree right in the middle, I climb to the top, And hide among the ancient bows, Where the light strains to reach me, Through the thick canopy.
I sit here for hours with my sketchbook, And a pencil, and my thoughts, And I sketch the area, Little conical pileus clusters, And trials of ants.
On there own tracks.
by ~LordLeonidus
The Demon PitThe Demon Pit - A preview of one of the poems in my new book to be released in a few months months. - All poems by LordLeonidus (Aidan Wallace)The Demon Pit
Into the pit did it fall, Full of fire and demons Screaming for revoke, Of his cruel fate, no return didst come.
The pit was full, Dark despite the tongues, Of fire that licked at his feet, then a feather did fall, all that remained.
He yowled at the awesome pain, Clawing and groping at the walls, The sad eyes of the fallen watched him, With a solemn look
One who was cl
by ~LordLeonidus
Favourites
Master of RavensMaster of RavensMaster of Ravens
1 My little brother is nine years old the first time I decide to kill him.
During the night, snow fell over the jagged wreckage of our land. In the morning I realize he will follow me outside if I call to him. Like an awkward-limbed colt he’ll stumble through the snowdrifts, and I can leave him to the ice and wind in the shadow of a three-walled building. No one will see me. Our father will think he has gotten lost on his own. I too will cry when they find his body. When the mourning is done, however, I will be my father's true and only son. ‘Cam,’ he will call to me, and I’
by ~ladyjaida
Nervous Steveby =curkas
Watchers
Story starts nowdeviantID
| Hey i'm Lord Leo and I enjoy writing various short sotires, I find it relaxing because it gives a chance for you to get away from the physical world and create your own lands were you are the God and you have the say on who finds peace and who finds destruction. I have now started submitting my stories and poems in parts (I origionally wanted to release them into a big book). The only one I haven't submitted is distant beings because I want an illustrator to follow up my detailed descriptions. If you can do angels and demons and places (like alien temples) contact me!!!  |
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Nun o' ya bees wax
- Interests: TV, PC and reading/drawing/writing
- Favourite artist: Black Stone Cherry
- MP3 player of choice: IPOD for deffs
- Favourite game: Abe's oddysee
- Favourite gaming platform: Gamecube
- Personal Quote: Meh
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