Fox Prose

When two come together, beauty blooms and memories become intentional. Where does your mind go? Today's prompt: lust and revenge meet (7/17) Come join and bring your favorite pens!🖊️ Combos are welcome, and include #FoxProse/@FoxProse for RTs.

@TinkerKitt3n 🦊🫶🏼✍️🏼❤️

Time preserved us and carried us forward. The quiet passing of light from one life into another. Our faces echo across photographs,
the same eyes looking out from different centuries. Blood carries stories our mouths never tell. DNA remembering what our minds have forgotten. Bone remembers bone. We are vessels for those who came before, their hopes and heartbeats pulsing in our veins. In us, the ancestors find new voice,
their unfinished verses finding completion in our breath. Kindness remembers kindness. Built to be sacred. 🐾💫 @FoxProse #FoxProse

@MadQueenStorm @bionicanadian @DaveAGardener 🦊🫶🏼✍️🏼❤️

⬆️ prompts used - #bionicanadian @bionicanadian #roomprompt #vss365 @DaveAGardener #FoxProse @FoxProse

crescent sunflowers twisted stems so elegantly bent the moon & her lover placing them one by one along the edges of their souls knowing the magnetism between them is what made them so they kiss the stars awake no longer struggling to be defined #poetry #microstory #mywords

After so many battles, we become a book. Of our victories. Our losses. Our bloody tears. Our maddening laughter. We become the herald of a burning hope that, even when we try to extinguish that flame with all the coldness this world has to offer... that stubborn bastard... a fighter through and through... refuses to die, making our chests warmer with every passing day. But... we also become the guardians of healing... slowly mending our wounds with golden thread and washing them clean in the waters of a new life. And... that's what keeps us humble: the fact that we've lost, we've grown, we've screamed, we've bled, we've looked pain in the face, and we're still here. We honor those who couldn't stay because the weight of their pain became too heavy to carry. We become a beautiful book and to every one of my old selves: you were never meaningless chapters. You were the pages that taught me how to keep writing. None of you were rewritten. None of you were erased. Every one of you still lives between these pages. “The Book We Become”🩸🥀 @FoxProse #FoxProse ✨ #kaytpoemprompts ✨

On a moonless night, he slumped against a weathered tombstone. The air was thick with summer heat, damp earth, sweat and stale alcohol. Crickets sang somewhere beyond the cemetery walls, their chorus swallowed by the suffocating silence that lingered between the graves. He was so drunk that he failed to notice another presence nearby. It sat only a few feet away, watching him with patience. The stranger carried the scent of sulfur, softened by something strangely sweet, a fragrance that reminded him of burnt cinnamon. The sharp crack of a breaking branch cut through the night. His head snapped up, and only then did he realize he was no longer alone. The figure had risen and now stood before him, motionless. Golden eyes regarded him with a mix of arrogance and profound boredom, as if the creature had witnessed every human failure and had grown tired of them. "Get out of here, devil!" the priest slurred, struggling to steady himself. "Don't you see you're standing before a servant of God? Go back to wherever you came from. You're not welcome on holy ground." A faint smile played across the stranger's lips. "How noble," the demon said with a soft snort. "A supposed man of God so drunk he can barely stand. Tell me... when did the bottle become more important than your God?" The priest's face twisted with anger. "Who are you to speak to me like that?" he yelled. "You're nothing but a vile creature! A thing cursed to wander forever, forever separated from the grace you threw away." The demon laughed. It wasn't loud or theatrical, it was the laugh of a predator that already knew the hunt was over. "What are you laughing at?" the priest demanded, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. "You." The single word lingered between them. "I find it amusing that a man drowning in his own vices would dare lecture me about grace." The priest's jaw tightened. "You blaspheme." The demon stepped closer until only a breath separated them. "Blaspheme?" it asked, tilting its head. "Against whom?" Its golden eyes searched the priest's face. "Against you?" The priest said nothing. "How extraordinary," the demon continued. "Has your pride become so immense that you've mistaken yourself for the One whose forgiveness you beg for every night?" The words landed harder than any shout could have. "You speak of righteousness," the demon said. "You preach humility. You condemn sinners from your pulpit while hiding behind your sacred words." Its gaze drifted briefly to the empty bottle lying beside the tombstone. "Tell me, priest... when was the last time you entered your church sober?" Silence. "You demand my respect because you call yourself holy... but look at you." The demon gestured toward him with almost casual disdain. "You reek of liquor. Your faith trembles with every drink and still you imagine yourself morally superior to those who kneel before you." The priest lowered his eyes. The demon's voice softened... Somehow, that was worse. "That is what fascinates me about your kind." It folded its hands behind its back as though discussing the weather. "I fell once." A pause. "You fall every day. Not through rebellion. Through greed. Through pride. Through indifference. Through the thousand little compromises you convince yourselves don't matter." Another silence settled over the cemetery. "You still call me damned," the demon said almost thoughtfully. "But I have never pretended to be anything other than what I am." Its eyes met the priest's one final time. "You, however..." A faint smile returned to its face. "...hide your decay beneath polished sermons, elegant robes... and borrowed holiness." The priest found no words. For the first time that night, the cemetery felt less haunted by the dead than by the terrible possibility that the creature standing before him was telling the truth. “Built to be sacred.”🩸🥀 @FoxProse #FoxProse 🪦🥀 @bionicanadian #bionicanadian 🪦🥀 (Both Prompts Reworded 🖤)

Logically... Everything ends. Everything will die one day. We probably shouldn't get attached to anything. But I have to say... I adore the way some people look impermanence in the eyes, raise their middle finger, and choose to rebel anyway. They plant trees and flowers, cultivating the most beautiful gardens, knowing they may never see them in full bloom. They compose songs that become someone else's safe place. They paint worlds that make complete strangers feel understood. They write poetry born from every emotion they've ever carried... unapologetically honest, unapologetically beautiful. They continue choosing connection in a world that insists it's overrated... inconvenient... unnecessary... And I won't lie... I have a soft spot for the ones who choose to create anyway. They take what they are, what they have, what they've lived through, and turn it into something that outlives them. I suppose that's what has always fascinated me. We know how the story ends, yet we keep writing new chapters anyway. We plant gardens whose shade we'll never enjoy, write poems we'll never know someone needed and love people we'll one day have to lose. Logic calls it pointless but I think it's one of the bravest things we'll ever do. “Reasoning for Logic's Sake”🩸🥀 @FoxProse #FoxProse ✨

…The Star Traveller… A simple roadtrip In this caravan, A simple woman a simple man, But her she is my rarest religion, She’s a beauty ethereal envision, We met one night in a starstruck collision, She was patient as I got high, She opened the threshold to the kaleidoscopic night sky, The colours of the night exploded in vibrant hue, And I was lost to the gaze a breathtaking view, She’s a star traveller from so far away, She opened me to colours and how planetary intricacies play, I got willingly lost in her wildest abyss, She brought me to my knees an evocative bliss, I swear I saw my heartbeat miss, One night she opened and the colours they did flow then she turned to me said “I have to go” And then exploded in such vibrancy, Memories are all I have left for me… #UnchainedSymphonies @SymphUnchained #vssfantasy #FoxProse @OurPoetryX #vss365 #patient @DaveAGardener @bionicanadian #bionicanadian @FoxProse

...The Ode To Neverland... Sail away on summer's sunset we'll head towards the clouds, Raise anchor let out the sail tighten all the shrouds, We'll conquer the wind a great big gust, billowing our sails in this boat we trust, And slowly with a creak we lift off high, Sailing up into the sky, Second star to the right and straight on till morning, We shall arrive as the new day is dawning, The sun shining liquid gold that pools down to the sea, As we enter mermaid cove watch the wildlings swim free, Such enchantment we'll be fearless and bold, Stay in Neverland where we shan't grow old... @bionicanadian #bionicanadian @FoxProse #FoxProse @DaveAGardener #vss365

EMBRACE YOUR FUTURE The past fades away. The present shines bright. Tomorrow awaits you. Hope is your guide. Step into the unknown. Your greatness will grow.. #vss365 #FoxProse

Two distant pens in separate rooms they wrote through morning light and glooms each day a page of solitary care of quiet triumphs, burdens hard to bear he penned his chapters through the driving rain of cities crossed and lessons learned from pain she traced her lines beneath a changing sky and watched the solitary months drift by two messy manuscripts of hope and doubt with margins blurred and sentences crossed out they did not know the words they wrote each day were winding down a shared, unspoken way the moment came, the separate tracks aligned two drifting stories suddenly entwined no longer scattered pages in the wind the separate chapters seamlessly were pinned the edges smoothed, the leather spine made taut a grander narrative than either sought we turned the page and left the past behind our separate verses beautifully aligned in that sweet moment when our lifelines met we became the book, with chapters unwritten yet the ink is fresh, the spine is strong and true with every chapter left after our first two. *we become the book #foxprose @FoxProse

I got distracted by the blade of destiny. A strange thing, really. Sharp enough to make certainty exist in a universe that has never promised any. How curious. The stars remain silent. The heavens never answer. The universe keeps expanding without ever looking back. But how? Isn't the universe supposed to be cold? Unmoved? Entirely unconcerned with us? Apparently, destiny never received that lesson. It seems to be the only exception the only thing that dares to move with intention while everything else drifts without meaning. Maybe the rest of us are simply left wondering whether the universe has ever cared at all. Maybe that's the cruelest part. Not knowing whether destiny is real... Or not... But... Does it really matter? Maybe... Maybe not... Still... As far as I know, I can't stop looking at the blade. “The Only Exception”🩸🥀 @FoxProse #FoxProse ✨ #kaytpoemprompts ✨ 📸 Pinterest ✨🥀

@sad_lil_clown 🦊🫶🏼✍️🏼❤️

Before the stars were placed inside the night the gods sat weaving threads of mortal fate intent on crafting lovers of such light that time itself could never separate they molded her to fit his eager hand they carved his heart to match her celestial beat a perfect union, flawlessly planned an endless harmony, melodiously sweet she fell into his arms with mad desire completely blind to any other sight her soul consumed by an eternal fire her dark complimenting his unchanging light he looked at her and knew his wandering done he held his forever, certain and true two fractured pieces fused into one the ancient vow they didn’t know they knew but as the gods poured out this sacred wine distracted by Destiny, and the futures weight a sudden tremor in the grand design a ripple through the loom of mortal fate the creators left the golden threads untied blind to the shadows where patterns cross and laced their perfect bond with tragic pride condemning endless love to endless loss for destiny demands they pay the cost of love too perfect for the world to hold a sudden breath, and everything is lost the timeless story, tragically retold yet in the wreckage of each closing page they close their eyes and wait for time to spin to find each other in another age and madly, blindly, fall in love again *Distracted by Destiny #foxprose @foxprose

@An_Empty_Space_ 🦊🫶🏼✍️🏼❤️

…My Firefly… There’s a part of me that’s desperate drowning since you did depart, You were never just a fleeting you are a piece of my heart, I try to not speak of the sadness I feel as to others it doesn’t really matter, But inside something important in me did shatter, This hurt is fueled not just by grief but in deeper echoes it’s filled with love, And I would give my very breath for a chance at seeing you in the above, When days were dark you’d always light the way, There’s so many things that I could say, Music isn’t the same without you to hold, And now your soft warmth is a memory that’s cold, I miss you so much much more than words could ever say, And the person that said that it gets easier? lied in every way… #kaytpoemprompts #FoxProse #vss365 #vssfantasy @OurPoetryX #BrknShards #pennedreveries @aperrincycling

eyes locked in to each others hums of words in the background your lips move words form into sound all i see all i hear all i know is love we have rewritten ourselves our hearts believe that we are already miracles that we create our own miracles that our being is a miracle the world falls away once again time disappears into being distracted by destiny the time to leave passes destiny waits a wish to continue for another few hours that wouldn't be that hard to happen soon as we rewrite as we rearrange our stars for our forever i am brooklynmorgan #foxprose #inspire

In the evenings quiet, where shadows play, Our love unfolds in elegant decay— A crumbling rose, its petals laced with gold, Yet fierce in its ruin, brave and bold. We were built to be sacred, carved from stone That time itself could never claim as its own, A temple veiled in moss and prayer, Where every fracture holds a deeper care. When the flames consume what we have been, We rise again—a phoenix, pure within— From ash and ember, wings of fire unfurled, To love once more across this fleeting world. Your hand in mine, through ruin and rebirth, We write our eternity on this crumbling earth. Prompts used: #Bionicanadian elegant decay #Foxprose built to be sacred #pennedreveries phoenix #vss365 rose

Aren't you cute with your measuring tape and your cardboard edges smiling like you found the missing piece of your puzzle who am I? I am probably not who you want me to be so go ahead Really, go ahead and keep trying to put me in your box tuck in my elbows press me, fold me label the top "fragile" or "handle with care" but I am not going to fit I am weird, a little odd, and at peace with my flaws the corners are already ripping...see? you're shoving, you're pressing down the lid but my giggles keep leaking out I am not struggling to be defined I am not going to suffocate in your box of expectations I am gloriously, happily flawed collecting my cracks and chips like badges of honor this box... your box that you keep trying to fit me in is a pretty little box but it's yours and I will keep sitting here amused uniquely unapologetically broken perfectly me *struggling to be defined #foxprose @FoxProse

She is intensity given flesh. A queen without a crown or a throne, yet with the power to bring kingdoms to their knees with nothing more than her gaze. A magical being of forgiving nature who, at the slightest betrayal, incinerates everything in her path without ever holding a grudge, for fire has no memory of what it consumes. High Priestess of humanity's mysteries, of endless love, and of the melancholy that pierces straight to the deepest chambers of the soul. A sweet nymph whose kisses taste of honey and wild berries, whose touch is as delicate as spring blossoms, and whose heart is as deep and unfathomable as the sea. A celestial contradiction that could cradle a dying bird with the same hands capable of pulling stars from the heavens simply because they no longer pleased her. She belonged neither to kingdoms nor to myths, yet both insisted on claiming her... Some souls spend their lives trying to become legends... She simply became one. “She Who Walked Like a Prophecy”🩸🥀 @FoxProse #FoxProse ✨ #kaytpoemprompts ✨