A simple sin not lust but more
that ripped across my sleeping from...
A tall slender faerie draped all in black and deep...
Across the way shedding tears was Nissa. Docile...
He felt like cherry blossoms
In the coming fall...
She puts ton of make-up on
wears cloths that show everything...
Blackened,
Sickened...
Ancient times when witchcraft stories were told
Shimmers of invocation far and near , behold...
ROBERT FROST
Some say the world will end in fire...
He stands alone in a quiet village,
a village that knows no fear...
As the world shifts to night
a creature wakes to bring the blight...
Fallen, fallen, is Insanity the great
millions cry as he wakes...
The words, they fail to find me,
thou out in teh open i stand...
This is a story, not a poem. Its for Creative...
His hands were thick, his fingers big and beefy...