Their bodies lay intertwined as they began to join the waking world. A gentle kiss to her shoulder brought a soft grin to her face as she rolled over to look into his auburn eyes. She pressed her rosy lips to his as she did every morning. He was her everything and she was his.
“Good morning, my dear dragon,” she softly giggled. He smiled at her and pulled her close, greeting her back. He kissed her forehead and started to get up to make breakfast. She got up; pulling on her robe, telling him that she’d make breakfast as he got ready. As she walked out the door, he noticed the somber look on her face and knew she wish
The real beauty of nature begins at night. In my world the day is meant for sleeping. The dark sky looks down to me with its millions of twinkling eyes as I walk the damp earth. The violins of the crickets in the nocturnal orchestra play ever so softly.
Soon the lonely coyote joins the crickets with his mournful howl as the gentle breeze conducts them, sending their music throughout the night. Like a lullaby, the melody is soothing.
In my world the night is my day. It is my freedom. The night brings me to life and I begin my nighttime journey across the dew kissed grass.
I'm so stressed out that I feel like I might give out. I tried to keep up in my schoolwork but I just can't. It's like I can't focus on anything but reading and writing books. Because of this, I fall behind. I just can't keep up. So, what's the point in trying? If I give up now, I could save myself from all the stress. I could be free! I know, however, that will never happen.
I go home at night and stay up until three in the morning just to get my work done. Sometimes when it seems like too much, I cry myself to sleep. I dream of a perfect stress-free world; only I know it's not real. I feel alone. I feel so alone some days, th
Their bodies lay intertwined as they began to join the waking world. A gentle kiss to her shoulder brought a soft grin to her face as she rolled over to look into his auburn eyes. She pressed her rosy lips to his as she did every morning. He was her everything and she was his.
“Good morning, my dear dragon,” she softly giggled. He smiled at her and pulled her close, greeting her back. He kissed her forehead and started to get up to make breakfast. She got up; pulling on her robe, telling him that she’d make breakfast as he got ready. As she walked out the door, he noticed the somber look on her face and knew she wish
The real beauty of nature begins at night. In my world the day is meant for sleeping. The dark sky looks down to me with its millions of twinkling eyes as I walk the damp earth. The violins of the crickets in the nocturnal orchestra play ever so softly.
Soon the lonely coyote joins the crickets with his mournful howl as the gentle breeze conducts them, sending their music throughout the night. Like a lullaby, the melody is soothing.
In my world the night is my day. It is my freedom. The night brings me to life and I begin my nighttime journey across the dew kissed grass.
I'm so stressed out that I feel like I might give out. I tried to keep up in my schoolwork but I just can't. It's like I can't focus on anything but reading and writing books. Because of this, I fall behind. I just can't keep up. So, what's the point in trying? If I give up now, I could save myself from all the stress. I could be free! I know, however, that will never happen.
I go home at night and stay up until three in the morning just to get my work done. Sometimes when it seems like too much, I cry myself to sleep. I dream of a perfect stress-free world; only I know it's not real. I feel alone. I feel so alone some days, th
"Death's Bride"
I wait for night to fall,
For stars to dance to the chirping of crickets.
I am waiting for my love,
As the raven settles in its nest.
He doesn't come,
And I feel invisible bees stinging my eyes with tears.
A twig snaps and I turn,
Thinking it is my love finally arriving.
It is not my love, but a lone wolf,
Hunger burning in those two glowing gold orbs.
The wolf lunges and I scream silently,
Feeling a warm liquid streaming from my neck.
Lifting its stained muzzle, the wolf howls,
Calling Death to come claim his bride.
As Death appears, I follow him,
Into the cool, starry abyss called Heaven.
Waiting to
TIL DEATH DO WE LOVE
My name was Kyoko. I'm was eleven years old and for my whole life I was trained to defend myself. I never killed a living thing, nor have I wanted to. I was more like a boy than a girl. Short hair and tough, yet I still would have worn skirts and dresses.
Okay, I was a little different. I was the Emperor's daughter. I wasn't popular. I chose not to be. My friends were outcasts. Some were dark, others were nerds, but most were Japanese. And I was alright with that. They