I Wish I Was Stronger
By Avani Reed I wish I was stronger, stronger than this pain Wish I had what it takes, to survive another day But it’s too late; tears fall, like rain Thoughts fill my head, telling me I’m insane The best parts of myself are rotting, beginning to decay I wish I was stronger, stronger than this pain But my heart begins to burst, no way to contain Wise words from loved ones, begging me to stay But it’s too late; tears fall, like rain My life, a mockery, here to entertain But not anymore, I can’t live that way I wish I was stronger, stronger than this pain You wouldn’t understand, and I can’t begin to explain Please forgive me, never meant to betray But it’s too late; tears fall, like rain Enough is enough, no more to sustain I’ll see you again, somewhere, someday I wish I was stronger, stronger than this pain But it’s too late; tears fall, like rain Avani will be attending William Paterson University in the Fall, pursuing her Bachelors in Classical Music and Music Management. She loves to sing and write.
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December 15By Joseph F.Excerpt From The Diary of Sheilan Rigeroth Graceheart- Princess, Knight of The Kingdom of Everlasting Graces’ Military
Due to these pages being the only companion that cannot judge me, I shall detail my brain swarming paranoias here. It feels as though there is a subtle rumbling underfoot of trouble to come. Small things that add to an ever growing tension. The events that I’ve witnessed, meaningless alone and terrifying when together. It been a week since the ironic death of Fear Leighis, Self Proclaimed Lord of the Necromancers. My older brother, Sir Elilkr, was the to slay him within the villain's castle walls while the rest of the military and I fought the unholy, rotting carcasses that Leighis formed to be his horde. Leighis was a thorn in every surrounding kingdom’s side, making the undead attack small villages rarely leaving survivors. He was difficult to find until his big plans and bigger ego got the best of him. Before the castle Leighis sent out his gluttonous flesh starved army from a remote area and then making a get away. After months of this the raids subsided for two days. An eerie quietness that was almost as blood curdling as when the hordes were active. Faint whispers and rumors spread in those two days. There was talk of a gathering of necromancers, a grand plot that was in motion to overthrow the very way of the current world. Low and behold, disrupting the very soil, the tower formed from broken bones and rotten flesh erupted from the ground. Growing higher with every passing second the tower touched the very heavens before halting. Exploding from the ground many species had their graves disturbed. Elves with now stumped decaying ears rattled off in broken elvish tongue. The very pride of the Goblins’ were defiled as their great tusks were now covered in wriggling maggots who hadn’t had their fill on the gums and were getting to work on the nose. The boasted ever present peace of the woodlands was destroyed as the grass eaters were reborn as carnivores and the nymphs polluted the rivers they onced loved with the blood of the friends they once knew. The newly made society of necromancers bent the trajectory of everyone’s warpath directly at themselves. After 14 days of long battle, as we threaded through hordes of rotting bodies and flesh munching fiends we reached the grand tower built on the resources of long dead family, friends and enemies. My brother ventured in alongside a large group of a 100. Though no one could see inside the tower, it was clear enough that it was dangerous from the screams that echoed from within. But their pain was not for naught as my brother returned without an arm but with the head of Fear. The weeks following were filled with tremendous ceremony and righteous execution. Yet my brother remained absent from most of them for reasons unknown. I brushed it off as mourning for his comrades as well as his lost ligament. On the now rare occasion that he actually leave his room I would observe him. His eyes carried bags underneath as though it were the help and dark shadows bordered his sockets. His spine was no crooked as if when born his given name was Igor. He spoke in dry mumbles of destiny and how he was going to “do the job right”. For those weeks I didn’t understand why he was acting in such a way. That was until I explored the dark cave known as my brother’s room. Though I have told no one of my discovery I presume it safe to tell these pages. In my brother’s room laid forbidden books of necromancy and end times. Littered within each of the many books I found were notes left by previous owners. I presumed my brother looted the tower as some of the notes were written by Fear. I would tell of its contents but I sensed an entrancing evil among the first page. The farthest I got into it was something about “instructions for the fall of man, the rise of a true lord, and the guide for a corpse ridden paradise before I slammed the book shut in an un-understandable fear that grasped my very soul. I was unable to look into the abyss for the fear it would look back. And though I am very fearful of my brother’s activities I have told no one as to not cause a panic. But I should tell soon. I feel a faint rumbling in the grounds below, dead strays have been sighted walking again, and I’m terrified of the maybe truth that my brother saw the eyes of the abyss. Joe F. is a sophomore at FHS. He is a self-described "lover of comics and competent writer." He enjoys creating comic books in his free time. Comics and candy are his forte. Keep Breathing
by Nia Abdullah Breath is sacred and scarce In these moments, I must remind myself to breathe I must remind myself that I am still breathing and that I still want to Because sometimes it feels like I’m not and I don’t want to I could lie, and say I’ve never felt like I wanted to die this much I could lie Say that I’ve let the pain of my past go But there’s still a lingering uncertainty A lingering shadow that clouds the kingdom I call my mind Clouds it with the thoughts of a pit called death And if you are concerned, you should be I don’t know what it feels like anymore to be happy without the shadow corrupting my soul I don’t know what it’s like to not have to remind myself of the breath of life Even in a crowded room, my mind swallows the noise and fills me in darkness But I must keep reminding myself to breathe I’ve forgotten how to live So filled with the thoughts of a painful quietus But I want to live I just don’t know how It must all start with the breath of life Nia is a Senior. She will be attending Rutgers University in the Fall. She enjoys reading and writing in her spare time. The Reality of Rude People
by AV We live in a world with many people There are the people who mind their business People who have the biggest heart And then there’s the rude people. Why must people be rude? Why must people be disrespectful to others? What is there to gain from that? It’s only just a waste of energy to hurt another person Is there satisfaction from hurting others? Does it make you feel better about yourself? Feeling some sort of power from your actions Feeling authority. Do you think about how others feel? People have personal lives too You may never know what people are going through Or do you know? What motivates you to be rude? Is it others or yourself? It takes a lot more to be rude than to be kind. You should try it sometime, It can come a long way. AV is a sophomore and originally wrote this piece for Ms. Barbour's Poetry Today Elective course. The New Abortion Bill in Georgia
by Sabrina Bello My body, my choice. How can a MAN make decisions about a woman’s body? How can you get sent to jail for not wanting a baby? There are a plethora of reasons to abort a baby; Let’s just name a few. Rape, Too young, Not capable of taking care of a child, Mentally ill, Incest Not ready to have one, Not financially able, It’s a woman’s right, Too old (could be born with defects), HIV positive, just don’t want one... There are so many reasons why this bill is a violation of our rights The bill states if a doctor can detect a heartbeat (at 6 weeks) they are not legally allowed to abort it Most women don’t even know they are pregnant until after 6 weeks! How can a woman be forced to have a baby she does not want… who does it benefit? Let’s make bills about the foster care system first because if you force women to have babies they do not want than the foster care system will overflow, just like adoption agencies. Eff men. Men do not have vaginas, therefore they do not get a say OR opinion. Giving life is a beautiful amazing thing, but if you do not want to do it that is OKAY. You’re not killing a human if they are still in your uterus.. How can a fetus be a human when at about 6 weeks they look like a peanut? Pro-choice: Everyone has a choice, everyone has rights. You do not have a say in regards to someone else’s body… ever. At 6 weeks a ‘baby’ is just a collection of human cells; if they want to make it illegal, Then amputating a limb is murder. Sabrina is a Senior. She wrote this response-to-a-news-article poem in Ms. Barbour's Poetry Today Elective Course. The Lover and The Loved
by Johany Solano She sits, reading another of her favorite books, on the steps of the campus library. Her hair waves in the gentle breeze. She glances up and I look away, trying to be discreet. He’s here again. Watching me. All my friends have told me to confront him, but honestly he interests me. The quirky way he shifts his glasses, And glances up to see if I’m Still watching… Fascination If only I had the courage to talk to her, tell her that the book she’s reading is only the beginning of a long and gracious series. Or how her eyes glint in the sunlight, and how her hands sometimes curl against the cold. Everything about her is so easy going. He’s blushing, makes me wish that I could just ask him, what is he blushing at? Why does he always look so carefree, like every day is a great day? If only I could comment on the dangers of walking and reading. In fact, the book in my hands right now is the book he was reading the first time he bumped into me. Yearning. This, in this moment, when everything is at a standstill you see the sparks and then, only then can you truly, Love and be Loved Johany is a 10th grader at FHS. She is an aspiring author currently working on short stories, poems, and a novel. Her love for works expands towards all types of literature, but especially classic novels. by Erin-Grace Zara
1. At one point there was a time, All hope was lost. No sign of life, Only crossed between faith upon the presence of the Devil’s eyes. Along with his stripes and a jesus cross written on a boy’s heart. Just as when almost every drop of belief was gone, A boy’s prayers were answered. Every blessing came around after the rain came down. A boy cried with joy as he stepped on land, After drinking every ounce of water he can. Life was born again for the hopeless boy. As his God filled the void, in his sorrowing heart. So close to leaving this world, Faith brought him together again. 2. I’m scared, Scared of the things that were coming. I have nobody, Nobody to protect me. Things happened so quickly, I remember their faces as if it was yesterday. I never even got to say goodbye. Now i’m stuck in the middle of the sea, Wishing i could go back in time. Trying to find a way back, While trying to survive. Why did it have to be me? I lost everything that i love, I have nothing. I can only cling onto a bengal tiger. 3. I was told to stay clear, When i was a little boy. My father said they were dangerous, They were treacherous, And they weren’t your friend. I just wanted to know what he was like up close. I didn’t mean to cause any harm, I swear. Father showed me what he was really like. I remember my mom hugging me so tight, As i stared into its teeth digging into him. The animal didn’t deserve to die. 4. Her eyes reminded me of sunny days, Clear skies, And lotus flowers. She is like no other, No comparison can describe the way she danced To the beat of the music. It was as if our hearts were synced when we first laid eyes. I didn’t believe in love at first sight, Until i met her. She became my night and day, My light in rain, But of course not every love story has happy endings. 5. Every animal is different. Some are tall, Some are short. Others have really long necks, And some don’t have any at all. They live differently, They eat differently, They are unique in every way. No species is the same, Which in my eyes, Makes the world so beautiful. 6. Anyone can believe what they want to believe. It’s a person’s given choice. Why is that hard to accept? I still love God, No matter if i’m Hindu, Christian, Or Islam. I can go to church on Sunday, Worship at home, Then pray 5 times to show love to all my Gods. I’m still a good Indian boy. 7. Richard Parker will be a name I will never forget. At one point, I thought he loved me, I thought he had a soul, Under the skin of a bengal tiger. We were just two living things, Surviving on the same boat. He gave my life purpose. Without him, I wouldn’t be alive today. But when we split there was No goodbye, No thank you, I was left with nothing. My dad was right, Animals are dangerous. They do not love you. They do not have souls. Stay away from them. 8. It was the most beautiful sight. I sat on the boat, Looking for the things he saw. As i stared deep into the sea, I saw every living thing but, It was much more than that. The way it glowed and shined, It almost made me forget where i was, Only for those beautiful, few seconds. I saw my family, I saw the ship, I saw everything in my past life. 9. I am tired of being called a pool. Enough is enough, I will stand my ground today. My head on straight, My confidence above the roof, My determination on a level nobody can reach. Today is the day I change my life. I walked into every classroom, Waiting for the teacher to say my name. I am not Piscine, I am Pi. 10. Which story would you believe? The one that makes you believe in God? Or the one that can make the headlines? Would you believe that I fell off that ship with a zebra, or with a man? Would you believe I shared a boat with a bengal tiger, or my mother instead? Are you a realist or an optimist? You tell me, My story is what you believe it is. My story is the Life Of Pi. Erin-Grace is a Junior. She wrote this collection of poetry inspired by Life of Pi for World Literature. I Feel For Us
(An Ode to all women) By: Avani Ali Reed I feel for the women who came before us The ones whose jaws clenched at the face of injustice Fists in balls as they take on the powers that be The ones who state that my organs have more say of themselves than me That I don’t deserve my earnings or my keep That every penny I earn will always be less than Less than a fraudulent system created by man A system that lets my abuser off with a slap of their wrist While I’m left in disgust with my very own existence Believing everything I’ve endured was on me That being a woman is enough means to be demeaned Disrespected, unappreciated, and left unseen I feel for the women who came before me Who chose to be stronger than they make us out to be Paving the way for us to take over their offices To march with pride demanding more for the next generation Demanding to be heard and unafraid of backing down Not a chance in hell that we’ll go out without a sound I feel for us everyday of my life Hoping that my story holds much more than just being someone else’s wife My body tells stories I wear on my wrists and thighs Stories I’ve learned to overcome, that have helped me to grow inside I feel for us And I will never stop feeling Avani will be attending William Paterson University in the Fall, pursuing her Bachelors in Classical Music and Music Management. She loves to sing and write. Smoke & Lies
by Jac Layton-Brown You once told me how you smoked There was nothing that brought up the topic You just felt the need to say it I told my friend about my crush on you He told me that I shouldn’t like or hang around you Because you smoke But I didn’t care You smoked on 4/20 I talked to you right after Your words came out slow Slow like when you stretch out something sticky It had made me laugh My laughs made you smile We walked together after school You said how your dad thought you were smoking Because you suddenly wanted to leave the house I was glad that you decided to walk around with me anyway You know how when you smoke It comes out of your nose So swiftly and abundant Then disappears? When you would lie to me Would the lie come out like that smoke? So quickly and effortlessly Without thinking much about it? Would your lies come naturally? Or would you choke on that smoke? Or were you used to it? And let them trail out effortlessly? Did you put much thought into it? Or did you barely even care? Jac is a sophomore at Franklin High School. She is an active member of Epiphany. The Artist and The Academic by Johany Solano The words flow out of me, dripping with emotion and passion. Words, with intelligence, precision. This is the criteria, this is all I’ll need to give. Words. Color splashes across the once blank canvas. They dance, and gleam, give life to a 2D image. The lines are thick, the colors are muted pastels. I color inside the lines, carefully...carefully… Art Work. Snap! A flower, glowing on this dewy morning. All of its beauty captured at the perfect moment, all of it snapped at just the right moment. Click! A morning glory, wet with drops of dew. The color is fascinating! Great for my botany project… Photos. But what if I was academic. If I had dedication, the mind- set of good quality work, stupendous vocabulary, and an answer for every question, neither right nor wrong but always something vague in-between, making every word original. But what if I was artistic. If I had the inspiration, the mind- set of passionate work, tremendous commitment, and word or color for each feeling that rushes through my veins, Never only black and white but always a mixture of both making it gray. There doesn’t have to be a line It isn’t one or another right or wrong black or white No, it’ll just be Me All of it is Me Johany is a 10th grader at FHS. She is an aspiring author currently working on short stories, poems, and a novel. Her love for works expands towards all types of literature, but especially classic novels. |
About Epiphany
Epiphany Literary Magazine is a safe space for students at Franklin High School to share their creativity. Archives '16-'20
June 2020
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