Art Sales

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@WiIIow check CR <3

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@Whim
*pokes head in*
Hello are you still writing poetry? If so I would be interested in commissioning you again =)

@Ripcooperchick

Yep! Just too lazy to bump this up all the time.


EDIT;; oh geez how'd you find this? I made a new shop in my signature. cx

@Whim Oh no worries xD I have a few that I wanted done if you wouldnt mind, they all have bios/stories art etc that you can get inspiration from [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=8919339] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/89194/8919339_350.png[/img] [/url] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25843027] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/258431/25843027_350.png[/img] [/url] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=10095865] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/100959/10095865_350.png[/img] [/url] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25921747] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/259218/25921747_350.png[/img] [/url][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=9288337] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/92884/9288337_350.png[/img] [/url]

This is a war cry,
To the idealistic and the dreamers:
For who's releasing sigh,
Will be reality of merciless reapers.

This is a rebut,
To those of naivè honer:
Who's pitf'lly trusting gut,
Will only end in goners.

But most of all, this is an ode,
To those mind over brave:
Who won't turn blind to what is showed -
Because the only evil,
Is a demise, hidden behind a stave.
- - -

"A pinch of marigold,
Or prehaps the tweaking if a wire.
These cranks may be rusty and old;
Who's to say won't start a fire?"

How do you proclaim to be
"inventive" and a "machine-ly broker"
When the best you can come up with
Is just short of mediocre?

Doesn't the true spirit of creating
Reside within the shining metal,
And away from how, upon abandoned work,
Dust will slowly settle?

Some may call it picky,
Or say the thought's aloft,
But really, who would buy a dingy clock
That's even just a minute off?

- - -
A cry of defiance and loyalty,
That came atop a snow-white steed
Into the midst of honorable battle,
A golden figure, he will lead.

To slash upon the protruding limbs
Of an old beech tree
Poking in.

To clear the mud of evil,
Out from a clanmate's den,
Only to toss the dirt
Into neighbor's instead.

In the end,
even if it was disastrous,
Or didn't help an ounce,
May I simply point out -
That it's the thought that really counts?

- - -

Fleeting beauty,
Like sand slipping through claws,
To scatter on the floor,
A simple rose, the sand will draw.

A scent that lingers until morn'
That tells what could have been,
But never has;
That's left so many, still to mourn.

Emotions tossed into wind,
At the slightest haw or whim,
Though the loving were an art
It doesn't fix the shattered path
Of broken hearts.

- - -

Words are power,
Names are grace,
So why, with praise, shower,
The uglies' face?

Words are stones thrown to ground,
You shouldn't bend them, twist them,
Warp them around?

Yes, they may be naught but air,
Though it settles in the mind
As meanin'ful dust,
However fine.

Because in my travels,
I have learned,
To hold a slyly snake
to their word,
Is as hard for them
As grounding birds.