These are the lyrics to songs that I've written. Mostly about the struggle for universal liberation.

Songs from the amazing Amavikka religion and culture Fialleril made, set in the harsh desert sands of Tatooine and guarded closely by the slaves.

Fialleril can be found on Tumblr or AO3.

Poems about life, love, spirituality, wonder, and all the other little things that are important.

So i had a dream. Two young men, one escaping terrible exploitation and one escaping terrible luxury, meet. They set of on their individual journeys to change their lives. On the way they meet angels and monsters and mermaids and demon horses and perfectly normal people with universes locked inside their tears. And they meet themselves. It was all a dream I had one night, literally a dream with the unbelievable qualities dreams have. It  was a bit weird. It was a bit disjointed. It was a bit fantastical. It was definitely emotional. It was a bit ridiculous at times, but it was inspiring at times. And I woke up in a daze, a literal daze. I decided to share the content of this dream with whoever comes across this story and decides to read it. Honoured guests, I humbly welcome you, to the story I spent days caudifying when I was supposed to be doing my homework.

A collection of the lyrics I wrote. Lyrics about everything that matters to me. About everything that I yearn for desperately.

This is a collection of poems I’ve written, that document the horrors and magnificence of this world and the people in it, and that document my journey through this world that we live in.

This is a collection of songs I’ve written, on topics such as love, rebellion, hope, pain, oppression, solidarity, desire, and more.

The world was murdered. The world will live again, will rise out from under its fetters. So will the people. In the meanwhile, the Yemars have magic. The Yemars have magic, and they have each other, and they have hope.

Synths are designed to be the perfect companions for their owners. They are genetically engineered to be sweet, kind, loyal, agreeable, and submissive. Arden's synth Luca seems to be the perfect playmate and servant. He seems perfectly content with his lot in life. But as the communist rebellion brews in the shadows, there may be more to everything than there appears to be.———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do anything they want with it.

This is just a place where I keep some of the poetry I’ve written over the years. Some of it is about me, some of it is about my friends, family, and loved ones. Some of it is about people I’ve never met. Some of it is about stories I’ve heard over the course of my life. There are many themes throughout, but the tying theme is universal equality and true liberation.

The Young Lightning Rehabilitation takes the most problem of youths and turns them into good citizens. It makes the most troubled of rebels into compliant and obedient pieces of society. It restructures the most stubborn of minds into docile and contented brains. No-one gets dragged into the centre and comes out unchanged. Everyone who enters its walls comes out broken down, destructured, destroyed, and rebuilt anew.

Simran is a young girl who chooses not to fit in. She doesn't know what she wants, but she knows she wants something. And she knows she'll find that something no matter the cost.

The kings and queens were satisfied ruling in their large palaces. They thought, falsely, that their people loved them. The people were struggling to scrape by with their poverty and their oppression. But the Forest glowed beyond the fields and villages. The Forest that was the only thing the nobles feared.

For it's powers and it's magic did not belong to them.

But the young woman with the dark hair and eyes, as much as the prince wanted her, she belonged to the Forest. And she would use the powers it gave her.

You look up. And there is no sky only blood.

You look down. And there is no ground only bone.

A girl walks through the night holding out a lantern. That girl is not you.

An orphan girl. Forced to live and work with people who see her as less than human. Forced to sell her human dignity to get by. A pair of storm-filled eyes in a sea of overcast pupils. A bowed head in an ocean of fearful worshippers. The ones who were in practice the gods of this world didn't see her. They drowned themselves in excesses as all flawed gods do. They stepped over the heads of mortals, humans and demigods alike, to get what they wanted. Our protagonist is losing hope. Then she meets a woman with blood smeared all over her mouth and running down her chin.

Alturia's empire rolls out over the world, leaving a trail of misery and destruction wherever it goes. It brings death, slavery, and desecration of the lands and waters. But the homeland of Alturia is a land of peace and camaraderie. It is within this homeland that Arulilei waits. She plans. She schemes. She will get revenge for all that was done to her, her people, and the people of the world. She will set the world free.

———Three lines indicate a time skip in the story. The story jumps forwards and backwards in time so if you see three lines know that whatever comes next either happens after or before whatever happened above the lines.———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

The Empire controls the whole world. It has controlled the whole world for centuries. To some, it has given unimaginable wealth and subtle yet almost complete power. To most it has given work, suffering, grief and pain.

There were hundreds of millions of slaves. And for so longs we had no hope. But then ... then there was hope. And it came to life like how a dry, dead forest sparks into a raging fire.

I have never known slavery. My mother ensured that. The war for freedom has lasted almost my entire life. And I am honoured to be able to fight with my comrades and people.

But in the midst of war, hope is hard to cling to.

Especially when you're just one teenager in standing in front of something as all-consuming as oppression itself.

———This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

This is just a collection of some of the poems I’ve written over the years, about the many emotions, dreams, desires, and destinies inherent to existing in this world. I write about the many ways the world around us affects us and how we in turn affect it.

Just the memories of a girl who should be a better person than she is.

Depur thought Ekkreth the perfect, obedient slave. It was using their obedience as a cover that Ekkreth took out their slave chip and escaped into the wilderness of the desert. But they knew that Depur would not let them go so easily.---This story takes place in the Tatooine Slave Religion that Fialleril created. You can find Fialleril on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.

You're a girl. A girl with coal-black hair. You're alive. And the way you feel, trapped in a destiny you didn't choose, makes you yearn for any kind of escape, even death. He has feathers blacker than the night sky. And he makes you feel something more, something better than alive. He makes you feel free.

Why did they take her from me? Why did they put me in this strange place where everything is so big and shiny and I'm surrounded by all these strange people who took me from my mother?

———

This story is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

Milahi loves her family. She loves her community. She loves her people. She works hard at the cafe six days a week. They don't have much. But they have each other. They make sure they have each other no matter what. And that's strength.

She's blessed as much as she's cursed.

As much as the Lords have every piece of her, they don't have her soul.

Monday through Saturday are days for misery.

Sundays are days for joy.  For rebellion. For hope.

———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do anything they want with it.

Humanity has unlocked the elixir of eternal life.

The brain can be cleaned and washed back into youthfulness. The body cannot. But by transporting the brain to a younger body, one that can host it, it can continue living.

The synthetically produced humans are not people. Of course they're not. If they were people then the originally occurring humans would be monsters for killing them and transferring originally occurring brains into their bodies. The originally occurring people are not monsters. Of course not. They just want to live.

And to save something you need to kill something. The synths are a necessary sacrifice.

-----Ika has heard what the originals think about the synths. But she also knows her own heart, and her own grief, and her own terror.

———This story is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

Once upon a time there was a kingdom. A kingdom full of common people who were scraping by however they could. A kingdom full of nobles who had more than they ever needed. A kingdom full of imbalanced power and inalienable longing.

There was a servant girl who was the mother of the king's son. There were many other women who were the mothers of many saccharine children.

And somewhere in the reality between realities, there were four women creating.

———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

Azalia was child in a farming village that was hovering near poverty but getting by just fine. She had friends, family, peace, health, free time, and happiness though she never had what one would call a luxury. She was happy.  Until the bombs started dropping. She didn't know why. No-one did. They just knew that there were many different ways to lose your loved ones.

Right now she's trying to provide for her loved ones, trying to survive. But to the soldiers anything is fair game. Anyone is fair game. For whatever their purposes are.

Once there was a girl. And she had everything. Everything she didn't want Once here was a child. And they had nothing. But they were about to have the entirety of the future.

———

This story is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

I have attempted to translate the beautiful works of the genius, mystical poet of Bangladesh, Nazrul Islam.

I love my dad, the king. And I love my mom, the queen. They are so kind and full of love. They are good people. I know that they're good people. So why are all these people against them? Why are all these people saying such provocative things?

Harmony Ametsenya is too young to face the cruelties of the city. At ten years old, she shouldn’t be hungry, she shouldn’t be cold, she shouldn’t be worried about where her next meal is coming from. But it doesn’t change the fact that she is.

Fourteen-year-old Msitu Ametsenya shouldn’t be either. But it doesn’t change the fact that she will keep Harmony safe at all costs. At all costs. No matter what.

Their lives are full of fear and pain work. Because in this city, nobody cares about two impoverished orphan children trying to stay alive. Nobody cares about the impoverished at all. The city is grey, made of metal and glass and concrete. The water is grey, full of pollution. The sky is grey, full of smog.

As Christmas comes around the corner, the first Christmas since their parents died, how will Msitu make it a time of joy and hope? Because after all, in a world run by greed and apathy, hope is everything.

———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do anything they want with it.

A young teenager in a partially but only partially fictional world in an unidentified place records her mental, emotional, and spiritual journey while finding her place in the world. The setting is intentionally vague and it is whatever place or places you feel it is. She uses poetry to quiet the raging longings which she must not say but cannot silence, though this doesn't always work.

I cannot feel the overwhelming horror that coils deep in the darkness of my soul. I do not know how to move past the way my feet stay frozen in the ground.

Solaria was beautiful. Shining. Bountiful. It was a land of prosperity and luxury.

For those who were citizens.

Reymi unfortunately was not a citizen.

He was a child slave caught up in the middle of the summer solstice celebration.

You were born dirt poor to a mother and father who loved you. You were orphaned at the age of eight because poverty is inherently precarious. Thankfully you grew up in a community that cared for you as best as they could. A community that raised you into the young woman you are today.

You live in a world that used to spark with life and hope and magic. Now there still might be magic but ... it's different.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story takes place in a fictional fantasy world full of fictional fantasy people. Also my take on the magic elements of the world  is heavily inspired by my religion of Lokeanism. I recognize that the motifs (is that the right word?) I used in this piece are not necessarily universal.

———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

Azania was sixteen. And she couldn’t take it anymore. She had spent her childhood lonely, spent it terrified, spent it desperate, spent it aching. The only adults in her life were the people who saw her as nothing but a tool to exploit and use. She was told over and over and over again that she was nothing and no-one and she didn’t matter. The only people in her life who cared about her were fellow slave-children and she barely ever got to see them at all. She needed freedom. Escape. She was willing to do anything for it.

And she wasn’t the only one. All over the city people were being exploited. People were being forced to work under impossibly degrading conditions and live in abject poverty. People were silenced. Stifled. And they were longing for escape.

The Forest was beyond the edges of the city. It was a place of magic and miracles. It was a place of hope and freedom and rebirth. But getting there was next to impossible.

Within the Forest the wolves howled. Azania emerged from the water. And she wasn’t the only one. And she wouldn’t be the only one. Who she met changed her life forever.

————This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

Robbie Hode is thirteen years old. He is hungry, he is tired, he is grief-stricken. Sherwood Forest stretches green in front of him, his little impoverished community lights a fire in his heart, and the prince's castle casts long shadows. He is a prodigy at the bow. He is a rebel at the heart. And he will show them all, even if it costs him his life.

———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

Azalia was child in a farming village that was hovering near poverty but getting by just fine. She had friends, family, peace, health, free time, and happiness though she never had what one would call a luxury. She was happy. Until the bombs started dropping. She didn't know why. No-one did. They just knew that there were many different ways to lose your loved ones.

Right now she's trying to provide for her loved ones, trying to survive. But to the soldiers anything is fair game. Anyone is fair game. For whatever their purposes are.

We are children and teenagers who have no one. Who have no shelter. Nothing but the streets and the fear and the apathy of the well-fed and sheltered. Nothing but hunger and poverty and pasts we would rather forget.

But despite all that we have each other. We always make sure to have each other. Because in this world full of apathy and hate, kindness grows only when you plant it.

And I will do anything to protect my family. Anything.

——— This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

A young woman is drowning in the beauty of the ocean. It only gets worse from there. Until it doesn't.

The sunlight burns hot around you and you almost don't see it, the heat of July dripping down in a sour-sickly, watery-sticky concoction.

When I was four I was taken from my family. When Miri was thirteen she was an orphan and a mother. When we were fourteen we had no shoes and too much work but we had each other.

Miri kissed me three days ago. Before I set out onto this journey with the blocker of my light. She told me to be brave. Be confident. Be brutal. And I'm not brave. I'm broken. But when Miri kisses me hope runs down like molten gold over the broken, jagged edges of my heart. Pulls them together. So for her I am brave. For us both.

———This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

This is a poem about my friend who is a lesbian stuck in an abusive, homophobic, misogynistic home. Please give her some love.

You are the closest thing to a teacher that I have ever had. I hope I can honour your and walk on that hard path.

Ember was screaming. His people were screaming. His land was bleeding.

———

This story is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

The Town was a good Town. The Townspeople were kind to each other. Everything was beautiful. Everything was clean. The women wore pretty cotton dresses. The men wore handsome button-up shirts. Parents adored and doted on their children.

They lived in accordance to the prophecies passed down to them by the Giver, the great being who had created all of this. The final prophecy decreed the coming of the Taker, who would take it all alway.

The Taker was meant to end the world. But the Taker would have to first be raised within the Town.

---The main character uses they/them pronouns. The main character likes using they/them pronouns. The main character is genuinely genderqueer and it's fine. They use they/them pronouns because they like it. Not because of all the cult stuff that happens. The cult stuff is separate from the genderqueer stuff.

———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

A young father holds his baby, and hopes.

———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

The seventeen-year old is Queen. She should be happy about that, right? She's not only married but she's married to the king.

She's not only married but she's married to the king. She's got a husband who has money and power and rank. Someone she can honour and obey and give herself to. Someone who will provide for her as long as she stays in line. As long as she stayed quiet, stays submissive, stays without an opinion, stays calm and ladylike and (of course) beautiful. As long as she stays worthy of love, worthy of belonging, worthy of what he gives to her.

The seventeen-year old is Queen.

That means she has giant, ornate palaces, crystal chandeliers, hundreds of dresses, and a bunch of food she can't actually eat but can indeed stare at (fat women aren't attractive after all).

The peasants, the people lower down on the hierarchy, don't have that. They don't have food, often, as the price of bread can soar too high for them to buy it. They don't have warmth in the winter, or medicine for when they're sick. What they do have is hard work. Hard work and calloused palms, calloused fingers, calloused feet.

And her heart reaches out to them. But what does her heart know? It's not her place to have opinions.

She has to be loyal. To her man. ... Unless... unless her loyalty truly belongs with someone else.

Maybe the thing she has to be is brave.

The city is filled with everything anyone could ever ask for. With entertainment and fun and beauty and intrigue. So why do I feel so dissatisfied? So why do I feel so empty?

The Wall around the city is high. It’s thick. No-one has ever seen over it. Everyone fears it.

But when I’m kissing Marcus and Elliot on the hard concrete of the school roof, I can’t help but wonder.

What else is there, that the city makes sure to keep us away from?

———This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

This is just a drabble. I don't know when or why I write it but it was in the drafts so I thought I'd put it out into the world.

Listen, children, here is the story of the first winter.

Once upon a time long long ago, before the lines between gods and mortals became clear, there was a little girl. This little girl was cast out by her family, by her community, by all the people of that time.  But the plants and the beasts and the sky and the stars saw her. And they saw that she was a child. And they resolved that they would bring her out of her sorrow.

---This is a story I made up it's not a folktale or something.​​​​​​​———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

The lands are burning in misery, drowning in tears.

My name is Mihu. I was a peasant farmer, in the years long since passed. In the times long since gone by. I was taken from my home, back when I was alive. I ascended into godhood when I died. But even as a god there was only so much I could do. Most people couldn't even see me. I could however offer bits of protection, support, and strength to the people of my town and my world.

It's clear to see that the world needs it.

And the baby who just entered this world under the light of the moon? The baby who was just born to an impoverished family of factory workers in the slums? I can tell that the road in front of her will be filled with misery.

———

This story is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

I had a nightmare. It was one of the most terrifying dreams I've ever had. I wrote it down almost as soon as I woke up. I can't describe it in detail here because of spoilers. But it features monsters and analogies and a city.———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

A young mother knows that the people who control her land will take her baby from her.

This is what happens to children sometimes. The rich and powerful need a new slave that they can bend and mold to their will sometimes, one they can keep in the intimate confines of their mansions. And it's so easy to break a child if you raise said child.

She knows that her baby will grow up not knowing the stories and songs and anger and laughter of the people in the fields and factories and mines.

Before she has to say goodbye forever though, she can give the child something important.

A piece of her history, a bit of strength.———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

This is a story about two girls. One was the past. One was the future. One was oppression. One was liberation. One was prejudice. One was wisdom. One was poison. One was healing. One was the princess of a world that would die. One was the partisan of a world about to live.

Blessed are the oppressed.

For they shall inherit the Earth.

This is the way it has been for my people, for as long as anyone could remember. Each new life brought with it the threat that the creature posed. Each new life could be snatched away from us too early, too harshly, and far too cruelly.

Did you know that Indigenous children in Canada are being separated from their families just because they are poor? Did you know that Indigenous children are being denied healthcare, disability support, and more? Do you know that education is underfunded for Indigenous children? That all social services are underfunded? What can you do about this? You can participate in Have a Heart Day, and send the Canadian government a letter and card, and make a snow bear, and educate yourself and spread the word!

These are the experiences that defined me. The experiences that made me who I was. The times of kindness and compassion and care that taught me the lessons that I value most deeply, that can teach you much as well.

Depur wants to take the very bedrock of a young child. But Ekkreth will not let him.

---This story takes places in the Tatooine Soave Culture and religion that Fialleril created. Fialleril's can be found on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.

Malina-Deprassi was a world of extremes. The Big People had more than they ever could need. The Small People struggled to get by. Events occur which cannot be explained. Prophecies are told which gain widespread attention. Children are born into the world.———

This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

Two worlds, placed in stark opposition with each other, placed intimately nestled close to each other. The world of hunger, thirst, sickness, and need. The world of the beggars. The world of luxury, comfort, pleasure, and contentment. The world of the shoppers. Two people look into each other’s faces. And they share a moment together. A small moment, mundane and abominable, in the flow of lives that take into account no justice, no mercy. Two people see each other. And nothing happens. And everything happens.

Nobody knows where the stories of Sheelo the prophet originated from. But everyone knows that they believe them. The stories are amazing, fantastical, inspiring, and so very empowering. And everyone knows that with Sheelo on their side, they are strong enough to stand up to those who have wealth and power.

Once upon a time, in a land far away filled with magic of all sorts, there was a type of creature called a Farlen. The blood that they bled, when it hit the sunlight, would turn into a grand host of rubies, one ruby for each drop. And there were men, too many men, who would seek to exploit such an abundant source of wealth.

When a Farlen named Gray was captured, he almost gave up on the thought of rescue, the thought of escape. But help can come from the most unlikely of sources.

The city leaves me scraped raw.

Everything's beautiful. Everything's beautiful. Everything is just fine and beautiful.

Never mind that the world is a swirling mass all around me. Never mind that I can barely walk straight. Never mind that there's a hand around my wrist holding me in a vice-grip. Never mind that something deep inside me is telling me to run.

I am exactly where I'm meant to be. The only place where I can be.

———This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

They want us to have poverty. They want us to serve them. To work for them. To be happy with our unbearably meagre lot in life. But we have each other. We have each other and that means that we have power. We can’t let them know that we have power, not ever. Because if they know, then they’ll destroy us.

The census is about to begin. I wonder if I’ll be brave enough to get through it. But I have to be. We all have to be. Because far too much depends on us, in this moment.

An immigrant girl ponders the life she hopes she has yet to live. Ponders the family she shared no blood with. Ponders the people she'd give her blood to. Ponders the universe she's been born into.

The little girl with dragon wings who works at the dress shop is silent, obedient, and most of all, loyal. She always does all the work asked of her without complaint or question. Nobody sees what’s truly inside. Not even her.

But one day, she meets a being who does.

The city is beautiful and glittering under the shine of the sun. But everyone knows of the people living underneath the city, in their subterranean world. The girl from the comfort and luxury of the world above ground doesn’t know much about the world underneath. But she is falling. She’s falling. And she does not know what awaits her.

Eric and I are the perfect couple. The young, strong, will-be soldier and the pretty blonde girlfriend by his side. Homecoming prince and princess. Children of the Empire. With everything stretching out for us to conquer and subdue.

Except we don’t want to conquer. We want to liberate.

And so, by the darkness of the night, we make our way out across the threshold of Eric’s vast house. And we step into our new beginning.

Through the forest. Through the river. Beyond the horizon. To the place of our destiny.

One of the many stories of how Ekkreth the trickster learned their shape-changing and one of the many stories of how they freed the slaves. Featuring children, found family, defiance, and sandstorms.

---This takes place in the Tatooine Slave Culture and religion that Fialleril created. Fialleril can be found on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.

One of the many stories of how Ekkreth the trickster learned their shape-changing and one of the many stories of how they freed the slaves. Featuring children, found family, defiance, and sandstorms.---This story takes place in the Tatooine Slave Culture and religion Fialleril created. Fialleril can be found on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.

Depur wants all the slaves to know that only death awaits those who defy him. The slaves know that they have the trickery of Ekkreth. Kara is a slave woman who knows that she will be defiant.---This story takes place in the Tatooine Slave Religion that Fialleril created. You can find Fialleril on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.

Mother Nature’s body mutilated. She lies there, her power, her glory, her immortal libertyRendered helpless by our slashing roads and our piercing pipelinesOur factories spewing pollution into the air, the lands, the waterOur mines digging down like stabbing knives into her Our mother’s body mutilatedAnd with her humanity is mutilatedWithout her we cannot be

You make me feel a tenderness and a worry that is too much for me, and still not nearly enough.

The story of how Reyn the slave bested Depur and kept their family together.

---This takes place in the Tatooine Slave Culture and religion that Fialleril created. Fialleril can be found on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.

Herm and Rami are two slaves in the blazing planet. Herm and Rami are getting married. And, as all marriage ceremonies among the Amavikkan must be, theirs is a secret, closely-guarded.

---This work takes place in the Tatooine Slave Culture Fialleril created. Fialleril can be found on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.

The story of how Depur endeavoured to build a Great Wall, and the slaves followed each other away into the darkness. Darkness like the ground that surrounds a seed.

---This is set in the amazing Amavikka religion and Tatooine Slave Culture Fialleril created. It is also a prequel to Mighty One by Triscribe. Fialleril's works and Triscribe's works can be found on Archive Of Our Own.

I watch over her. I feel her pain with her. I feel all the many injustices done to her. And I wish I could intervene. I wish I could intervene but ever since my powers became depleted, this is all I can do.

The child is away from her true family. And she is in a family that treats her like a thing. Treats her like a tool to be used and a service to be exploited. She keeps all the hurt and the suffering and the hopelessness she feels inside. She’s far, far too young to be this hopeless. No-one deserves to be this hopeless.

What she doesn’t know though is that she is the embodiment of hope itself.

Depur wants to destroy the Desert. But there it stands, as a hope to the slaves and a symbol of all that Depur cannot conquer.

---This work takes place in the Tatooine Slave Culture and religion that Fialleril created. Fialleril can be found on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.

All I know is toil and work and rice and beans and saying goodbye to loved ones too early. All I have is a family made up of broken people and a community paved with broken streets. All we have is stories and hope and the Lifemaker and each other.  All they want from us is the sweat off our backs.

But on one night I have a dream. On one afternoon a child commits a crime. On one dawn the world starts turning towards a new day and the gods are closer than we ever knew them to be.

The story of how Depur stole the memory of the slaves, and how the people helped Ekkreth and each other to take it back.

---This story takes place in the Tatooine Slave Religion that Fialleril created. You can find Fialleril on Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr.