Wordle Me This #3

Tamara Woods 26 Comments

It’s time for a new wordle! This week, I’ve taken words from one of our editor’s books, Depression’s Dance by Hastywords. There is no set amount of words you have to use, and you can use any form of the word listed below (plural, past tense, etc.)

wordle3

Here are you words:

storm
liar
noise
bitter
rampant
thief
lurks
redemption
exposed
consumption
caverns
vestige
revival

To check out Hastyword’s book, click here!

Good luck and have fun!

Remember, all entries must be linked back to this post with a pingback or by commenting by Friday at midnight EST. Saturday is the vote and Sunday the winner will be featured. The winner is also entered for a place in the spring edition of our magazine.

26 thoughts on “Wordle Me This #3”

  1. http://viseleunuiinsomniac.blogspot.ro/2014/12/dystopian.html

    Dystopian

    In the thirteenth age of the Ununseptium nuclear storm,
    The vestige of humans lies exposed in primal skins.
    Sun is obliterated; his reign in tenebrous eclipse is walled.
    Stars are in obscure dungeons enthralled,
    While under moon’s ray of noise are called
    Liar gods and mortals… now quantum’s decay,
    In obscure abyss to be chaotic reborn;
    As the particles of endless time grievous phantasms begin to form.
    Caverns awake, mouth wide open as coffins,
    And, as rapacious kings of old, over the shattered surface
    Go rampant and increase all undead life consumption.
    Clouds gather in bitter wings of fallen muse’s lace
    Bringing, at dawn, the revival of Akasha’s tantalizing miasma.
    Rotten redemption lurks in the shadows of the quill thief.

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  9. The Storm Rages

    The storm hammers the walls
    Lightning strikes, wind howls
    As the thief who lurks in the night
    Begins a furtive flight of fancy
    Climbing up ladders into your thoughts

    Through the caverns of your mind
    Which begins to unwind as the vestiges of unkind
    Memories are exposed and we are supposed
    To forget the noise from when we were boys
    Who scattered their toys and our punishments
    Were so severe we cried deep into the night
    Till we saw the shadows which gave us fright

    Images upon the walls whose very sight
    Consumed us like a bitter pill we had to swallow
    As we felt the cane that fell time and again
    So we created a tale and became a liar
    But consoled ourselves as our flesh was on fire
    With a story of redemption when we would run free
    No fear of consumption, thieves on the run
    Would dance in our heads as the pain begun
    While lying in our beds as our backs were beat

    But now we live that life, free on the street
    Taking chances as our revival dances
    Just beyond our fingertips
    We lick and pucker our lips
    Blow a whistle; snap our fingers and lickety split
    Our angels sing halleluiahs, they shower us with praise
    As we follow our footsteps through this maze
    Of rampant emotions, recollections and rage

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