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I almost couldn't comprehend.

Which was ridiculous. I was Vlad the Third. Prince of Wallachia. Dracula. Son of Vlad II Dracul and Princess Cneajna of Moldavia. As such I should not have had a problem understanding this situation I was in.

Wake up, Count. Pay attention.

My face remained unmoved and my dark red eyes saw nothing of importance. The fading velvety blue of the night sky being overturned by the light of day after such an epic night as the night of my second defeat. The dawn rose to prove to my enemies that all things, despicable things, like me always came to an end. The darkness was always removed by the light.

Such was my mortal enemy. My dear human conqueror. In his brave red Victorian coat.

That man stood above me while I lay motionless from the wooden stake driven through my chest and nearly through my monstrous heart. I pushed the blood on my tongue out the corner of my mouth before I spoke to that man. That mere mortal man.

"So I lost." I stated to him in a thick dark voice more than I asked. I began to fully understand. To comprehend. At least enough to know that these moments were final. They were the end.

"That's right." Was the reply I received from the noble King without a crown. Merciless blue eyes cut into me with contempt and disgust. "You lost. No nightmare lasts forever."

Hn, so right. I had not anticipated in mine ending so soon and in such a way as this.

"Both your castle and your fief are gone. You loyal servants are dead and gone too." He explained the terms of my utter defeat. I suppose I am glad he did. It had not yet settled in just all of what I had lost in this battle. I still did not fully know.

Beyond his blonde hair the sun was rising. Coming up to light up this scene of tragedy and this scene of human triumph. "Even her mark from the Eucharist wafer has vanished."

My dull dark red eyes fell on the one above me. Mina, no... I felt the sting of blood in the corners of my eyes. I kept them at bay. I was a monster. There was no room for this foolish human emotion. Slay me, human! Now!

I was not so lucky. He uttered the five words I would never forget.

"She'll never belong to you."

Mina... My eyes went wide and it all started to settle in. The full horror of my defeat. I didn't have long to linger on it. That man struck at the stake in my chest with his fist and drove it in all the deeper until it pierced the ground under my back.

I screamed in pain. My back arched. The control over my bloody tears was broken. They flowed down my cold dead cheeks without interference. I made short silent gasps for air I didn't need as the monster in me wept. White gloved hands grabbed the lapels of my finery ruined by my own blood to bring my face up to his level.

"You've got nothing left now, count!" He barked at me. All his righteous and justified rage behind his words. Mocking me. Relishing my fall. "Miserable No Life King! Everything you had is now gone!"

"Da." I spoke wetly while the tears of blood continued to run down from my eyes without shame. Why should I be ashamed? I was defeated. There was no honor to be found. "Nimic." There was never honor in my un-life.

Abraham Van Hellsing grunted then threw me back down to the ground. Satisfied with my acceptance of defeat.

I closed my bleeding eyes against the morning light and was only slightly grateful that my black hair had fallen over my eyes as extra shade. I heard Abraham speak with his battle weary companions. Noting the dead and the injured of their invading party.

Their words were far away. My being felt heavy. The stake in my chest was weighing me down. I did not have the strength to move anymore. My eyes cracked open long enough to see the sun hovering just above the horizon through my hair.

Then my eyelids fell heavily closed once more. All was darkness.
Did this last night at two or three in the morning. Took me about two hours with my ADD.

Hellsing (C) Kohta Hirano
Dracula (C) Bram Stoker

Enjoy!
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A Glorified Babysitter

Damien had been screaming non-stop for over an hour. It was going on two in the morning. Integral paced the sitting room of her quarters, bouncing her son in her arms, trying desperately to settle him. She had been running on three hours of sleep a night for two weeks because of this. Damien had begun this nightly tirade at roughly seven weeks old. He was almost three months and she still couldn't figure out how to calm him. Nothing seemed to work. She had a sneaking feeling of what the boy needed, but she was in denial of the fact. The suspicion was made worse on the occasions when she attempted to breast feed. Damien had been born with teeth--specifically four ever-so tiny canines, and every time she gave him her nipple he would inevitably start biting her shortly after be began suckling.

She cooed to him as best she could, trying to calm him. She was so tired--she could actually feel the bags under her eyes. She had had sleepless, stressful nights over the years while running her organization, but this was just ridiculous.

She pulled the straight backed chair out form the table she kept in the sitting room and wearily fell into it, still cradling the screamming infant. How she wished that Walter was still alive. He would have been able to help immensely. He would have understood the situation. He could have been trusted with her son's fragile secret. As it was, only three people could know the truth about Damien: herself, Seras, and Alucard, and the two vampires were generally incapacitated during the day and were needed on missions during the night, which left her alone to care for her son.

"But we are not always on nighttime missions, my Master."

Integral jumped, hearing Alucard's disembodied voice come into the room--proof that her nerves were shot. He phased through her wall and came to a stop before her.

"Like now," he stated bluntly.

She stared up at him, lids heavy with exhaustion.

"Force of habit," she murmured, still bouncing her son. "And I don't really see you being a very good baby-sitter."

"I'm hurt," he said nonchalantly before continuing, "Let me take him. You need some rest." He bent down and took the crying bundle from her arms.

Integral stared at the sight in front of her. She would never get used to the sight of her vampire holding a baby--at lest without looking like he'd just found dinner. Alucard murmured to the boy in what Integral assumed was Romanian. The rumble of his voice seemed to sooth Damien a little, seeing as how the boy's screams dulled to frustrated whimpers.

Alucard gave a toothy grin, "Guess he just needs a father's touch."

Integral snorted, "Maybe so, but you still look like you're thinking about eating him."

He looked at her through the fringe of his hair, "Again, I am hurt, my Master."

He stood up straighter and became serious. "Go to bed, Integra. I'll see to him until dawn. And from now on, I'll inform the Police Girl that she is to care fro Damien during the night so that you can sleep."

"You do not give orders, Alucard. And Seras will be doing no such thing. We need her in the field, and I don't need the attention of having the new heir of Hellsing cared for by a vampire."

He smirked at her and took a more authoritative stance before her--although the effect was significantly dulled by him holding a squirming three-month-old. "I do not need the Police Girl on missions. She is occasionally useful, but altogether unnecessary. As for public opinion, no one needs to know. Seras can come here and stay here through the night. You don't have to take the boy to the dungeons."

Integral waved her hand, the other pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Seras is officially the live-in-babysitter."

"Now go to bed," he said again.

She glared at him, ready to protest his giving her orders, but she was officially too exhausted to care. "Very well." She pushed herself up from the chair and made her way toward her bedchamber. As she passed him, his hand snaked out and grabbed her upper arm. She turned quickly and began to shout irritably, but was silenced by his lips on hers. He only lingered for a second before releasing her.

"Pleasant dreams, my master," he purred. She stared at him, mouth gaping slightly. Damien cried out and Alucard murmured to him again.

I am never going to get used to this, she moaned to herself, wavering on her feet as the thought passed. She desperately needed sleep. She turned back toward the hall heading to her bedchamber and trudged toward it. Leaning out the door briefly, she called irritably to the red-clad vampire, "Don't corrupt my son while I'm asleep!"

She closed the door behind her and heard his voice in her head as she fell into bed. Ah, but remember, Master--he's my son too.

She summoned enough strength to pull her covers up over her, and passed out cold before her head came to rest on her pillow.

***************

Alucard watched his mate trudge to her bedroom. Motherhood really did not suit her. Oh, she loved their son, he knew that without a doubt--but Integral Hellsing was not a woman that would fawn over anything, especially not a baby. It was a wide belief (shared by Integral herself) that if she were and animal in the wild, she would probably eat her own young.

Damien squirmed in his arms, the volume of his little voice starting to build again. Alucard murmured to him, lifting his gloved hand to tickle the boy under his chin. He wasn't exactly the perfect candidate for a father either--he was a vampire after all. However, he was also a prideful creature, and the fact that the tiny being was basically part of him made up for the fact that it happened to be a child. He sat down in Integral's chair, pulling the glove off of his free hand. I know what you need, little one, Alucard whispered to the boy. He made a shallow slice into the pad of his index finger with his thumbnail. His dark blood beaded on his fingertip and he lowered it to his sons's mouth.

The boy latched onto the digit instantly, his tiny teeth pinching Alucard's skin, but not breaking it. He suckled as if it was a bottle in his mouth. He had calmed instantly.

It made sense. Damien was a dhampir. He was half vampire, so it only made sense that he needed blood as part of his diet. Alucard knew that Integral did not want to think about this particulr aspect of their son's makeup--at least not yet. However, it was the primary reason he was so fussy and kept her awake all night. But that was okay. Integral didn't need to worry about this part of raising the boy. Alucard was more suited to handling it.

Besides, if Damien needed to drink blood, Alucard preferred that it was his own, at least for now. Although he had no idea how his blood would affect his son, something told him there would be no adverse effects. It would be as if another vampire took his blood--it would make Damien stronger. And, with this understanding it would be like giving his child generic multivitamins by not giving Damien his blood. He would simply be a bad father...

A prideful creature, indeed.

After several minutes Damien's jaw went slack and his breathing had become steady. Alucard pulled his fingertip from the infant's lips, smiling ever so slightly at the boy's gaping mouth.

Alucard glanced back to Integral's bedroom before phasing into the shadows, Damien in tow. He rematerialized in front of Seras in her room in the dungeons--nearly giving the midian a heart attack--or would have if her heart still beat.

"Ma-ma-master!" Seras half-shouted, standing quickly from the chair she sat at, knocking it over backwards with her sudden movement.

"Shhh, Police Girl," Alucard scolded with his trademark smirk, "You'll wake the baby."

Seras's eyes widened, in what some would call horror and pointed at the sleeping infant. "Does Sir Integral know you have him?" she asked, her voice coming out with a squeak, thinking about the knight's reaction to having her infant son whisked away during the night by a blood-sucking fiend... even if that same fiend happened to be the father...

"Do not fear, my little Draculina," Alucard said in an almost sing-song fashion, "My Master is aware that the boy is in my care."

"But... um... Why is he in your care?"

Alucard grinned at his fledgling, "Why do I get the feeling that no one trusts me?"

"Well... um... that is..." Seras stammered, trying to find the right words and coming up with nothing.

"No matter," Alucard continued to grin. "Police Girl, you are hereby relieved of active duty for organization missions. From now on, unless otherwise informed by my Master, you will be caring for Damien through the night in her quarters, understood?"

Seras blinked rapidly as she stared at him in open-mouthed confusion. "Wait... What?"

His trademark sardonic grin widened, showing all of his teeth. "Congratulations," he said, abruptly handing the sleeping boy off to her, "You've been premoted from 'soldier' to 'body guard.' Or downgraded to 'night nurse.' Your decision."

As Damien came solidly into her arms, Seras started to panic, "Wait! Wait a minute! I don't know anything about babies! Master--Did Sir Integral order this!?!" Seras felt as though her eyes were going to fall out of her head as Alucard phased into shadows.

"MASTER!" Seras gave a panicked yelp.

"I will return for him shortly before dawn. Report to my Master's quarters at sunset."

Seras looked around her room in sheer panic. "Master! I don't even have a baby bottle down here!"

With a sudden plop a bag that looked suspiciously like a diaper bag fell through her ceiling and bounced on the stone floor.

"Oh, this is just bloody lovely," she complained to herself as she moved and sat down on her bed. All the commotion had woken Damien, and he now looked up at her with round blue eyes. She gave a heavy sigh. "Oh well, guess it's just you and me kid--and with parents like yours I think we'll be seeing a lot of each other. I'll make you a deal," she said, bouncing him a little. "I'll be the best baby-sitter ever, if you promise to call me 'Seras' and not 'Police Girl' when you learn how to talk, okay?" She tickled him under the chin and he grabbed at her fingers with his tiny white hands. She grinned. "It's a deal then."



Disclaimer: Vampire Hunter D, (c) Hideyuki Kikuchi, Hellsing (c) Kouto Hirano. I own nothing and am making no money from this...
Ah, the trials and tribulations of raising a dhampir...

Again, betaed myself, so it might suck a little.

Alucard blood idea: saw a D/Dracula picture a while back (is in my faves) in which the theory was that Drac had bit D himself and that had something to do with why D was stronger than other dhampirs... Well, this follows the same concept.

Also, gotta love poor babysitter Seras. Oh, if ANYONE has any sugestions on a different title PLEASE GIVE! This title sucks.
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I’m fully aware that I’m alive.


And in this life, I find it hard to believe

that I could allow so many nights to

pass unnoticed and unaccompanied.


And in this world where seven billion

souls crawl over one another,

being alone is something of a miracle.  

I haven't been writing very much poetry lately.  This past year has been a rather strange, un-creative time in my life and I quite honestly feel like I wasted the lion's share of 2013.  This poem is a rather simple and short result of that feeling of disbelieve and shame that comes with wasting so much of your precious time.  I hope those who read it enjoy it for what it is.  As always I welcome any feedback. 

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There's a band aid on her ankle
bleeding up her thigh and onto her neck.
A right handed whiskey bottle slung
over her razor wire shoulder .
Today, the train track was a catwalk .

Nothing about her  hair or her lip ring
cried out "Help me".  No, she was the
collective pulse and the sun couldn't set
until she took off those shades.
…I couldn't leave until I found her eyes.

She shouted over the whistle of an approaching train.

"Sometimes you can find lumps of coal tucked between the rails.
They turn into diamonds. Didn't you know?"

"I think that process takes a really long time."

"Time is all I have…and coal."

We stood off to the edge as the beast rolled by.  
I think we both thought about what would happen
if we stepped in front of the next one.
Both in different ways.

"You should leave. I feel silly being watched."

"Diamonds right?  Aren't they all about pressure?

"And heat."  She smiled and removed her sunglasses.  

Suddenly the stars were out.
I wrote this after seeing this picture. [link] It was just a very inspiring and peace invoking picture in my opinion and I don't think I did the picture justice by I tried. He has many cool pictures in his gallery so check him out!
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Monsters are real and they like to tell stories about us.
We're scary because we can walk around in the day light.
We only check our closets to make sure no one found the skeletons.

What you became is something that I find difficult to explain.
I promise that I try, but sometimes my mind won't let me.
I'm still fighting the instinct to protect you, long after you're gone.
If I wasn't cursed with hindsight you would remain a child in my eyes.
Do you truly deserve that kind of liberation?
Nobody wants to play an equal role in helping me destroy these memories.

Yesterday, I heard the echo of our laughter in the cries of a lost child.
I held her hand and waited for the mother to come rescue her.
She hugged me and thanked me for keeping the girl safe.
I never feel good about myself anymore.
It hasn't felt right to touch anyone accept the ghosts I see in my dreams.

This isn't about love or leprosy and I'm not a rat floating down the river on a wheel of cheese.

Do you see what I mean?
No.

I think you would have laughed, but these are words you'll never read.
I know that.
Please.
Please.
Please .
Understand that I know I'm talking to myself.
I also know how to build a wall and
I know how long it takes to scrub blood stains off your hands.
Forever is a blind man's estimate.
What you knew was how to breathe while running and
why it hurts when people grind salt into an open wound.

True story-
A young couple moved into the house where you used to live. They were unpacking and boxes littered the yard. As I was driving by, I got distracted and accidently honked the horn. The man was carrying a rather large mirror and must have startled him because he dropped it.  The mirror shattered and I felt terribly guilty. I thought about turning around and offering to reimburse the couple but when I looked in the rearview I decided to keep driving. The young man stood in the driveway with his wife, staring at ten thousand copies of their own frowns.  Six months later I drove past there again and a for-sale sign was pounded into the front yard.

Don't tell me things don't happen for a reason.
There is such a thing as "bad luck"
I woke up one day and decided that I loved you.
I don't think that I will ever get back to sleep.

I walked you home from the bus stop one day.
We were only friends and it was winter.
Neither of us knew the finer points of staying warm.
You punched me on the shoulder when I said goodbye.
I threw a snowball at your head when you turned around to go inside.
The last thing I remember seeing was the sun peeking
through the clouds as you tackled me into a snow drift.
I took you down with me.
I didn't feel guilty for being happy back then.
I didn't know that monsters were real.
What boy would have seen anything other than the girl in his arms?

So many things shattered in front of that house.
God, I hate the cold.
Think I'm off my game. This is really long and rant-like. I hope that some find merit in it though. Comments/critiques welcome.
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You wake up and it's spring again.  The kids have all grown up and moved out. Your neighbor needs to mow her lawn but she is too seasoned for long exposure to the southern sun.  It dawns on you one night when you're grilling steaks for your family.  Your daughter calls you over to the table. She's on her third glass of wine. She met a man in graduate school.  He doesn't drink.  They clear their throats in unison and announce that they are engaged and plan to be married next January.  You're happy for them but that is getting further and further from your mind.  Your eyes shift over to the tall weeds growing only feet away from your wife's roses.  You think about the fact that your neighbor never mentioned grandchildren.  She never mentioned anyone.  You think about the boy down the street who died in that car accident this winter.  He always took care of her yard…for a price.  Now, there is crab grass growing so close to your Tall Fescue. The last thing you think about for awhile is that you can't remember how long it's been since you have seen her.  Not since spring began.  You hug your daughter and shake her fiancés hand and walk over to the neighbor's front door.  You ring the bell and continuously knock.  You don't think about why she isn't answering because you already know.
Thought about this during class the other day. The title is still a work in progress. If you can offer constructive feedback on this piece I would appreciate it.
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Briskly comes the bloody winter wind’s vent
Gray dusk looms over my shattered homestead
The crow’s caw makes known the warrior’s descent
Across the dying pasture, misted red

Glory, comes now my once sweetly adored!
Fighting brothers with valiant reluctance
His tender eyes shut, his breathing no more
His body lies stone-cold with stiffened stance

How well he fought for his country and lass
Like Prince Paris, fighting for what he claimed
Now laid ready for a still, somber mass
His face in my conscience forever famed

Gone is the restful warmth of his skin
Gone is the honey-like voice from his tongue
Yet, here he lays, surrounded by my kin
His bluing ears deaf to their praises sung

His eyes like mirrors reflect my despair
His hand is unresponsive to my grasp
Though I know his spirit now watches where
He can escape all maddened soldiers' clasps

Heaven’s bells peal, the seraphine choir sings
For he has joined the chorus of angels
I can nearly hear his pleasant voice ring
Though his body be marred, his soul lives, dwells

I long to feel his gentle touch once more
I so long to know happiness with him
I long to see his stance at the door
Instead of his lifeless, blank gaze, so dim

As we were to be wed this snowy moon
We’re now separated by the cold ground
He had gone to find his glory too soon
And was placed warmly in a warrior’s mound

My braver soul mate, though he had gone home
To God the Father, and laid in the earth
Like Homer’s Penelope, I shan’t roam
I’ll wait ‘til we reunite by the firth

When this war is ended, I shall come
And lay forlornly by his graveside
I shall then say to him “sweet, we are home”
And I’ll feel complete, his never-wed bride
Whoo! I hope this cleared up my writer's block (I'm not quite sure yet). But... I like this poem! It's an elegiac poem (a poem praising a dead person) and it makes vague references to being set in the American Civil War. It's about a woman (who is possibly forced to turn her plantation into a war hospital) who finds her fiancé's dead body in the yard, and she both mourns him and praises his bravery at the same time.





Please leave, nice lovely constructive comments or I'll come and egg your house. Word.


EDIT: Fixed some stuff
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The Civil War
By: Nellie Melton

The war began when a bunch of people in the lower hemisphere of Americaland were ticked off at the ones above them because they ate all the pizza. What really used a straw to break a camel’s back though was when Lincoln was voted to be the president. South Carolina was all “AW HELL NAW,” and separated from the Union. Then, all the other states down there were all “Hey, let’s jump on the bandwagon too!” And so they did. However, the Union was going “OH NO YOU DI’INT”, so they started the war. This made people generally upset.

The first major battle of the war was when Lincoln was trying to open a jar of pickles. Then, the SECOND major battle of the war was called “The Battle of Bull” or something along the lines of that. This battle was important because a lot of people lost and it made the North and South realize that THIS IS A FREAKIN’ WAR AND OF COURSE IT’S NOT GOING TO END RIGHT AWAY. THEY NEVER DO. Unless it’s the Seven Day’s War, in which Sadako fought an army of little tiny Pyramid Heads because they critiqued her video too much. But that’s beside the point, because even then it took seven days. Seriously.

The battles went on for quite a while. There was espionage, guerilla warfare, warfare in general, and many vicious Halo and Dance Dance Revolution matches between the two sides. It was all so tiring that the two sides’ girlfriends got bored of watching the men play video games all the time and left them for the party life. Both the North and South were heavily inflicted with depression because of this, and wrote bad poetry about the darkness of their souls and how their teachers kept them in during recess. Alas, it was dark times.

The South was hit the hardest, however, when many men no longer had shoes to protect their little toesies. Because of this, they could no longer play DDR and were now on the defensive, until one fateful night. They preformed a summoning ritual that summoned the magical rainbow vintage Barbie doll, never removed from box! (NRFB! NRFB!) She granted them all plastic high-heels for which they could continue to fight in. The men rejoiced, for not only did they have shoes again, but they made their legs look sexy.

The southern men’s sexy legs angered the men from the North, for they became jealous. Angrily they gnashed their teeth and smoke poured out of their ears as they charged into the South. They crashed over mountains, deserts, and forests, but then many sank into the Bayou. It was a tragic event. Some smart ones dug a hole through the Bayou though and ended up in China. They ordered some takeout, then swam across the Altantic Ocean from New York to London like MapQuest told them to.

Some people may argue that the Civil War was over slavery. This was actually a cover-up by the CIA. It was actually over oil, ‘cause that’s usually what causes wars. Some say that the cover-up never happened though, and it was only a misinterpretation of “black gold” in old journals recovered from Civil War veterans. Either way, the CIA refused to comment when I followed them around all day, trying to ask stuff. Buncha jerks.

Anyway, after the Bayou incident was when the most horrendous assault happened. That’s right; Jefferson Davis released the ninjas on Lincoln. For a long time, Davis had ninja traps set throughout Japan. The traps were ingenious; disguised as pirates or helpless babies with candy, and soon many ninjas were hanging upside-down from nooses, and man were they pissed. In fact, they were so pissed that anyone who came within a 50-mile radius got their heads exploded from the pure ninja fury going on there. After the ninjas were caught, they were shipped to Americaland, directly to Lincoln’s house.

It was Christmas when he opened the package marked “This is totally not a box full of ninjas”. Suddenly a whole horde of them sprung out of the box, killed everyone in the building including all the bugs that were there, and then left. Fortunately for Lincoln, a phoenix down fell off the table from a gust of wind, landed on him, and revived him. He only had one, though, so in his grief, he built a robot that would replicate his wife, transplanting her brain into it. Meanwhile, the ninjas searched for the one who took them from their homeland, planning to avenge themselves. They found Davis in a supermarket, and ended up killing him with loaves of French bread. Then they teleported back home, to go tell their ninja friends of their excellent adventure.

And so, with their leader gone, the Confederacy lost the war, and the Union was preserved. People flopped about on the streets with happiness, and that’s how breakdancing was invented. Lincoln was shot afterwards.

THE END.
I got an A! :D
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Life of a "Goth"…?

You see me in the corner, huddled in a ball,
Me and all my friends loiter at the mall.
I pretend to like knives and drag them on my skin,
Just enough to make a drop of blood come from within.
Only a light scar, but dark enough to see,
To show off just how suicidal I can be.
I draw stars inside circles on my hand,
I don't know what it means, but it's the symbol of my band.
In my metal group, I play my bass,
And I use black eyeliner to draw three sixes on my face.
I can't gauge my ear, so my earring isn't real,
I'm so depressed; no one knows how I feel.
I write pathetic poems about how I hate my family,
I can't do what I want and they'll never understand me.
I buy my clothes from Hot Topic because it's cool,
Even though I have friends, I choose to sit by myself in school.
The other black-haired kids call me a poser and a mistake,
But they're not like me because I'm Goth, and they're the ones who are Fake.
I was walking through the halls today and heard a girl basically bragging about the cuts on her arm. people like that are idiots. its one thing to do it, but its ridiculous when someone does it for attention then brags about it. so that got me started with this. its not ment to specifically offend anyone. If you know of anyone like this, you will more then likely find it funny.
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Lure me in with silk and gold,
beaded velvet, satin threads
drawn across lips still red with wine.

Draw me down beneath the world
into some secret, wanton lair
while Carnival still beats within our veins.

Wall me up behind the dark
and leave me with my silver chains
to think on wiles byzantine,

Montresor's bleak design.
Written for :iconlit-visual-alliance:

For the original image, visit by :iconkrazypenguin:
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