His sword is nearly dull from use. It shines silver underneath the black and red crust. The long claymore is carried easily by him. The sword of legend is only meant for the worthy. But he is unworthy. He uses his brutality through all obstacles and is wearing down the only sword left for the chosen one....

His favorite weapon is but a piece of string. The way it easily wraps around a throat and how stealthily it is, it is all admired by him. He strangles his victims in the night, but few have been killed by him. He’s been doing this for years, but only some of the worst criminals have been eliminated since he appeared. No one has ever known who really killed those people. But, we all know they were ...

The girl had been the only one there.

Her, the land, and the Sun.

One day she ran and she ran

She became thirsty and said, “Sun?”

The Sun replied,

“Yes my daughter?”

And the girl

She wished for water.

The Sun granted her wish

And gave her the ocean.

Now at this time, the world was small

Only a few miles within.

The girl was happy

But unsatisfied

For what she asked the Sun

She begged...

I loved him.

Everything about him.

He reeled me in.

I was his fish

And he was my win.

He caught me one day

Said, “let’s be friends!”

And he never knew

How I felt about him.

But everything ends.

You may think this a love story.

That not be true.

The way I felt,

He never knew.

He gave me his word

That we’d be close as this.

I took his life

As I wanted much more than this.

You think I ...

“I hate it- I hate everyone here!” I wish everything was different. I’ve been bullied my whole life. Even my parents saw me as last priority. Day in and day out it’s things like, “‘why can’t you be more like your brother?’” Or, “‘Oh my god, Your family is so gorgeous. Aren’t you a little black sheep?’” I don’t understand why they don’t like me. What did I ever do to them?

I woke up in the mi...

The lights remind me of the stars

But the street

It’s a memory of scars

They resemble fireflies

And burn bright

Into the pupils of my eyes

It all looks amazing

The sky, the horizon

But these memories are tasing...

Little red riding hood

Strolled down the road

Of forest and flowers

And not with her load.

Everything was red

Her hood and the trees

And even the path

Beneath her very knees

Now what is this path

With only red beginning?

Just do the math

It’s the same as the ending!

With no basket

And no wolf in sight,

She’ll skip and she’ll hop

Through the flowery night.

But how can that be

In a place of on...

The smell of smoke burns my lungs. It is my favorite smell, that and gasoline. I sit atop the roof of the only stable building, staring out. It’s wonderful. The power. The control. It’s all mine. But now what?

The reason I had done all this is simple really. I was accused of being a witch, so I showed them the mercy of one.

I had ran away the night they planned to burn me and stowed away on a sh...

In a world full of roses,

Be a wildflower.

Those roses practice poses,

And affection is showered.

But dandelions,

They can live anywhere.

They can be Hawaiians,

Or travel in the air.

Roses are brittle

And need much care.

But those called Deadnettle,

Their life is fair.

Roses can be beautiful

And not quite like a Poppy,

But they wilt when conditions aren’t suitable.

They are very choppy....

Beneath the willow,

You will find

Something dreary;

Or something kind.

This tree is a shelter.

This tree is a home.

To those who are lost;

And those who are alone.

On a cold rainy day,

You can take a peak.

And what you may hear

Is the cheaps from a tiny, lonely beak.

And if you look further,

Just turn your head,

There lay a rodent,

Dry and dead.

While some things may live

And others die,

T...