Life is a body and words is it's food. Also please feel free to follow me
Down the derelict road I wondered, noting the Abundance of rubble where houses once stood. In the distance stands a dilapidating office, a relic of the city's financial power.
This is a joke. You made me broke. Living high on my money. Well I'm no longer your honey. You can't scrounge of me now. You cheating lying cow. You took me good. Like you knew you could.
I soon found myself shoving on my old leather jacket on the hunch that my grandad had told me.
I dreamt it, looking into the void.....the void between life and death.
The line between bring crazy and being a genius is only measured by ones success This means I'm a genius :p.
I saw it, looking at me with its big beady eyes. staring not at me, but penetrating right into my soul, trying to rob it of its darkest secrets.
Down the dark, bending road I wondered, Not aware of what the night held for me.
Love is strength, it gives the power to get by every day knowing you have someone special.
If the mind can think it The hands can build it.
The screams filled the air for but a brief second, and then she was gone...
Out the office I wondered wearily till I hit the big, towering sculpture of the late mayor redburn. The mayor had been another victim of the shadows cunning charm, luring his wife into killing him.
How can you sleep at night. Always thinking your right. Always disrespecting me. Talking to me like I'm three. Well I'm not a kid anymore. And just to settle the score. Im more mature than you.
The smouldering fire embers are dancing in the air, the smell of marshmallows struggles to overpower the damp smell of the forest.
The screams filled the air for but a brief second, and then she was gone...
The lost soul Quite often a man, a woman, a person comes along.... Confused by life ..... Confused by their decisions.... They seek redemption... Redemption from the cold cold world.....
Hunting in the sacred forest. Drums are beating in a chorus. For them hunting isn't a choice. Then out of nowhere a booming voice. Then a swarm of poison darts. Children begging from their hearts.
Hope is a weakness of humans, but although their greatest strength. It gives the power to get out of bed everyday, no matter what lies ahead.
Walking down the golden lane. Poverty restricts them like a chain. A line is forming in the street. Just more people after heat. A scurry of feet through the door. People always after more.