Have You EverHave you ever,More Like This
Looked up at the stars,
Bewildered by their brilliance,
Or jealous of their perfection?
Have you ever,
Watched a fire burn?
Its heat intense
And its embers soaring.
Have you ever,
Watched tears being shed?
The heavy heart behind them,
Giving way to a flood of pain.
Have you ever,
Witnessed the healing of a broken spirit?
The strength behind those tears,
Unmatched by the strength of a thousand men.
Each occur every day,
But some are more beautiful.
The healing of a broken heart,
Is a beauty beyond compare
Child, where do you belong?She's ripping wings off of butterfliesMore Like This
The smile she once had turned into a frown
Now she wears the smile as a disguise
She jumps in puddles of rain
She steps on all the cracks
She tries her best to hide the pain
She knows there's no going back
She's running from the place called 'home'
But that house was never a home
She's skipping along the side of the road
She's finally free to roam
She's finally found her happy place
Heaven was never far
God held her in his arms
And whispered 'child this is where you belong'
lostI am lostMore Like This
Lost like a child
So lost I will never find my way home
I try to find solace in strangers
I smile at passers by
I just can't reach what I try to touch
There is nothing to look forward to
Only an alcoholic haze
I lost myself sometime ago
And I can't remember where I left me
I resist everything
And stamp down any compulsions
Stuck so hard in a life I wouldn't wish on anyone
I let it all slip away
Just daydreaming of what could've been
I'm So lost in my head
So lost in my dreams
so lost it seems
There is no hope
At My CommandI ask of youMore Like This
more than I should ask,
and still you give me all you can.
I demand from you,
and you comply with all my requests.
and you submit
to all my whims.
And I know
you would do
fly to other galaxies
or sail the seven seas...
she's a witch, she's a witchshe didn't have dreams, only premonitions that troubled her mindMore Like This
a head full of crystal balls, wish-upon-a-stars and birthday wishes
something a part of her she could never reach out to
the future breathing down her neck
C.U.S. Travis Grady MovelistName: Travis GradyMore Like This
Unique attacks: Pipe bash (grabs a steel pipe and bashes foe with it)
Television toss (throws T.V. at foe)
Shotgun blast (pulls out a shotgun and blasts foe)
Piledriver (the wrestling move)
Toaster throw (throws an exploding toaster at foe)
Special moves: Hammer Time (a combo using a sledgehammer)
Summoning The Butcher (The Butcher appears and attacks foe)
Double drop kick
Silent HillRain pounded against the roof of the old widow house, scratching out the blood stained paint that was now starting to chip from many years of wear. Inside the house was nothing but a single bed in a room overlooking the sea on the second floor, the sky a choppy blue covered in dark gray clouds, the storm on the horizon slinking its way like a never ending snake, forever casting a shadow on the house and its inhabitance. On the bed laid a boy of eighteen, hiding under the covers; away from the world, trying to cast away the pain that surrounded him. The door to the room was locked from the inside, keeping himself from the monsters that lurked in other parts of the house. There was no warmth in the house to help him fall to the wonderful world of sleep; blood shot eyes with bags under them, he wept from the constant worry of the pain that lurked outside and the monstrosities that laid within the house that he was kept thin, shivering under what little heat was within the covers of the raMore Like This
Chaotic Christmas Ch.4Chapter 4:More Like This
"Uh, oh...guess whose coming up..." Rose said elbowing Antonia.
Antonia got all excited and couldn't say a word.
Puss went up and sat in the big chair. Just as he was about to tell his tale. Rose handed him a guitar. "You always tell it to a tune, and that's how I prefer it."
"Gracias, mi hija..now" Puss began as he cleared his throat. "The way this story is told shall be very different from the recent version you've just heard. And probably even more better..." Puss chuckled.
"It was back in my hometown of San Ricardo...the children were playing, the grown-ups were decorating, but little did either of them know. A proud cat family was too, getting into the holiday spirit..." Puss continued.
"The oldest sister, Dezeray was getting dolled up, the second to oldest, Sierra kept quiet, while the youngest, Rose spent time with a good friend of ours Antonia..."
Antonia smiled and leaned to Rose, "Holy frijoles! Rose! When he is done I have to tell him I am honored!" Antonia let a
Les Petits PrincesMore Like This
"James is dying," Nefertiti said, her voice a whisper and barely audible from the balcony. The gray stone was cool beneath her hands, smooth from generations before her, and comforting to support herself on as she stared down to the gardens and gates of their palace below.
Queen Nefertiti was dark haired and tan, with wide eyes and a thin smile. It was her husband their children took after. Both young men with blond hair and blue eyes, both growing tall and strong and moving towards becoming the rulers of their odd-named nation.
Her husband's, Arthur's, breath caught. A short little gasp and snarl as his fists clenched by his side. His curses were so soft that it was difficult to catch them between the night-things and lazy breeze.
"Oswald cannot lead."
"He will have to."
Footsteps, and Arthur was pacing. "Could we find an excuse to appoint a Regent?"
"He is already seventeen," Nefertiti said. "When you die, he will be king."
Arthur cursed again, louder, as Nefertiti left her perch at
Two CentsCome out of your shell. Ring your bell. Do not be shy. Jump high. Jump over the fence. Put in your two cents. Speak and let people hear. Have no fear.More Like This
AbsintheLeave me then to dream in wormwood -More Like This
those malignant little demons
spilled in the mind-drift of my nights -
and steal me from my fitful rest.
Those malignant little demons
slip nightshade through the windowsills
and steal me from my fitful rest -
the cruelest jest, a poet's fears.
Slip nightshade through the windowsills
and leave the emerald juice to rest.
The cruelest jest a poet fears
is madness come home to roost.
Leave the emerald juice to rest.
Spilled in the mind-drift of my nights
is madness come home to roost.
Leave me then to dream in wormwood.