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About Digital Art / Hobbyist L. ArenasMale/United States Recent Activity
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Literature
The Strength of The Wolf: Prologue
Their eyes remained fixed on each other, hate and disdain reflected back on the other. Finally the Inquisitor spoke, his voice quiet but cold and edged with venom.
"Your crime is apostasy. You reject us. You turn away from truth. Yours is an affliction of weakness, the inability to receive the testimony of your Lord." The fire crackled, wood and tinder slowly broke under the weight of the hammer resting in the flame. It had begun to glow red, as if lit from within.
"Insipientia corde suo, non es deus. Non est vita qui adorem, non es usque ad unum. Es excommunicatus, ex unione fidelium." The Inquisitor's mouth pulled into a grotesque approximation of a smile, lips pulled back from white teeth set in gums crimson as blood.
"It is not heresy, and I will not recant!" The Accused spoke with fury, his voice though ragged still rang out in the chamber.
"You cannot silence me. You cannot kill me. I am an idea. I am the panacea to your fetid charnel house. Your lies will not stand and I will no
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Literature
Flavor Country
Here is a short story I wrote a year ago. It is plain & mediocre but I present it "as is" for your reading pleasure. I use my pseudonym and I don't know why...
Flavor Country by Gunnar Stahl (a pseudonym)
My footsteps echo in the vast emptiness left. My eyes move over the bare walls, tracing the lines of long-departed posters and prints. I can't help but glance down at the floor while retracing long vanished paths, a million little scuffs bringing to mind a thousand little memories. It's all a tumble of images in soft focus, fuzzy at the edges but bright and warm. Who will live here now, what new memories will this place see? I walk from room to room, but that isn't right, not really. I amble with no goal, only stopping to enjoy a phantom fragrance or a stray thought. So much has passed inside this place it's hard to accept it has all ended.
My eyes become dewey, I laugh at myself (or is it in spite of myself?). What would Sheila say if she saw me? I move my hands to my face and push t
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Literature
Salute
Listen to those trumpets sing,
what their calls to arm can bring.
This is where I stood my ground,
tell them lost & never found.
They took my soul in ebon night;
frozen now, free from blight.
Hollow men, cracked and dry,
why can't they all just let me die?
They took my heart, made me a liar.
Dead men now, getting high on fire.
I am death made manifest.
Reborn hard, made more & less.
Twist my life,
threw me away.
Stole my blood,
boiled it today.
Medals can't help me dig.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I am buried alive.
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Literature
The Trouble With Vanity
Once, long ago, there was a little girl born to a poor village. She was tender, quiet and beloved by the village for she was also wise beyond her years. From her lips there was only truth, from her hands only kindness.
One day, while walking home from a well she crossed paths with a palanquin. Inside sat a noble, their skin a radiant bronze, draped in a sari of shining silk, rings on every finger.
"Girl, they say you speak only truth. Tell me, am I not the fairest creature you have ever seen?"
The girl looked at the noble and in a quiet voice said,"The fairest creature I have known is my dog. She is soft and loving, loyal and true. She is truly beautiful, her spirit so ennobled by her actions."
The noble sneered at the girl. "Dirty sow! You insult me? If I am not the fairest then I am the deadliest! My guards shall slaughter your village."
The girl remained calm and shook her head. She wore a face of sadness, her eyes moist. "No. The deadliest creature I know is the cobra who has enter
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Literature
Childhood's End
We live in a liminal state in our planet's life, a halfway mark twixt a Golden or Dark Age. No more are the cycles of life and death ruled by Nature's balance but by Humanity's collective will and disregard. We are at a tipping point, our planet is at the precipice of a great extinction on a scale last seen after a celestial impact sixty-five million years ago. It took apocalyptic force from the starry skies to equal our adolescence as a species. What brought us to this edge, to this great ruination? Ignorance. The ignorance unique to the young and prideful. Our success with our spirits and mind has subjugated all Nature who lies red in tooth and claw. We as a species are still mere steps from our ancestral Africa yet our sooty fingerprints stain every corner of our globe. We have grown quickly and lacking wisdom have grown bent and twisted.
We still huddle in thuggish clans. We ally ourselves to colors and cloth but not to each other. We believe as babes do, in superstition and invisi
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L. Arenas
Artist | Hobbyist | Digital Art
United States
I'm a nihilist and skeptic and I make no apology for it. I reason that there in no value intrinsic in anything apart from what we as sentient beings give it. No fate, no gods, nothing save ourselves. I love my fellow man because he is lonely, small, petty, and cruel. I am lonely, small, petty, and cruel. Humanity is the very opposite of the universe he floats in…
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I've been very lax putting anything up or being on dA at all… I'll try to do better. Please look forward to it!

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