《Radha's Krishna》55. ||RISE||
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Someday
I will rise.
Rise like the beautiful sun
On a Sunday dawn
That so many nature enthusiasts
Yearn to gaze at
I'll diffuse my effulgent and inviting rays
To all the humanity around.
I will rise
From this grief
Like a caterpillar tires its limbs
From constructing
A safe and warm cocoon for itself
Only to blossom and spread my vivid wings
And fly away.
I will rise.
Optimism does wonders, after all.
I will rise,
Be your eternal heartthrob again
Dress the way I did
Dance the way I did
Sing the way I did
Love you the way I still do.
I will
Make your jaw drop again
Like I did
Every
Single
Day,
Krishna.
But tonight
I just don't care
About my dishevelled hair
And lovelorn face.
I will rise someday, Krishna
But today
Just today
I need your arms.
Even Goddesses need homes.
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An 18-year-old girl who lost her family in an accident, Yamano Mitsuha falls off a cliff one day and transferred to a different world with a civilization level of medieval Europe. Mitsuha who discovered it was possible to go and return to Earth after a deadly fight with wolves decided to live in both worlds.「For the sake of security in old age, I will aim for 80,000 gold coins!」I will try not to let strange things circulate and distort the progress of the world, but I won’t hold back for the sake of my easy life and safety! While carrying three handguns along with words and deeds that appear decent, in her head, Yamano Mitsuha is a sly girl.Making an effort to make money even with a small body that looks like a child to foreigners!Oh, my secrets are too dangerous, you said? It’s fine, it’s fine! I’ll transfer away when push comes to shove!
8 292I Was Summoned To Have Tea With The Demon Lord [Rewrite]
Hiyori Chiba, age sixteen. An aspiring cop who finds herself in another world solving the mystery of why girls keep disappearing -- to have tea with the Demon Lord?! This can't be legal. Cover art by Awan. Now rewritten with some GameLit elements!
8 76Toothpick
“Hello! My humble audience! I, the Bard of the North, am going to tell you a tale. Nothing new, nothing old. A story of a hero, some may say, others a poor boy who was hated by the world.” The storyteller paused as he waited, right timing was everything when telling a story. Pacing… Too slow and the audience became bored then left without tossing even the smallest of coins. If he spoke too fast and rushed the story. It would leave the audience confused and having no reason to be impressed. So like any good storyteller, the Bard has to do a balancing act of sorts. Not too slow, not too fast. Just perfectly in the middle. “In a shattered country in the south, a novice princeling has the ambition to mend a torn tapestry that is his birthplace. Struggling to fend off those who would usurp the throne in an unending civil war spanning centuries. A mercenary that left only death in his wake, unable to stave off the monotony and peace of life. He looks back at the path laden with bodies, wondering if it was all worth it. Wandering souls summoned by a madman, travel away from a wasteland in a foreign land, the first alone, the others as companions. A deity, ancient in her years, waiting to be freed from a duty she no longer enjoys. For all these people and their stories, none are the hero of this tale. No, the hero is not grand, not wise, not ready.. he was punished for nothing of his doing, who was an outcast that was unloved by many, including his father.” This was always the big reveal novices use to jump off into their story. He did not start here, instead, like any good fishermen, he set the bait and waited until the fish bit before pulling. As he saw the audience's eyes focus, he then started the backstory. The harness, that stopped the listeners from having metaphorical whiplash. The foreshadowing. “But that is not where the story starts. No, not even the hero's birth. Where the story begins, is the boredom of the deity, a deity many know of. She who hunts for the impossible, the guide for those who have lost the path, the Huntress of Mallon--” A small pause, a short breath. “--All old names for a single powerful being that has roamed the grounds of this continent longer than any line of kings or queens, lords or ladies. A being of worship for many an individual…” One last breath. And he began singing the first verse.
8 289He's a Senior and I'm the Freshman
8 190Winning Her Back in My Arms
Book 2 of "A Wife's Cry of Intimate Pain"
8 101Coming Home • taynew [ENG TRANS] ✔
[ COMPLETED ] "Excuse me, you forgot this?" Tay turned to the source of the voice. Behind him stood the figure of the man he love. Someone who unexpectedly appear in the pouring rain of whole city. "Te, let's go home."[ ENGLISH TRANSLATION FOR "Pulang • taynew" ]© daeyumbruh, 2021
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