another TFColumbus GAMore Like This
arykh: siiiggghhh .......boring....boring.....boing.*fliping thru channels on TV*.....wish i had powers...
ARYKH:WHAT THE!?!WHOS THERE?*rushes to the kichen and finds glass allover the floor*dame....
sorry"says a voice'ARYKH:WHOS THERE!?
voiceh no one
ARYKH:WELL SOME ONES-OWW!!!*HAND AKES WITH PAIN*
PassionMy heart is beating with boiling blood,More Like This
My veins are pulsing hard.
My breathing is big,
My head is boiled.
My sweat is flowing in streams.
My body's shivering,
My back is burning,
My chest is hurting,
And now my thoughts is dying.
Fluffy and white is my sheet.
With red petals of roses.
My candles are shivering,
But with perfumes broken from dreams.
Waiting I can no more,
My clothes are ripped apart,
Covered in blood.
The air which enters in me is all of it dead.
My white skin now is blood.
My sight is gone...
And only breathing I can hear.
Russian Dream Part 1Es schneite bereits in die Dämmerung hinein, als Ivan Zarewitsch im Mantel eines Tagelöhners den Schankraum der Kneipe " Zur roten Baba Jaga" betrat.More Like This
Die Balken, die die Decke hielten, hingen schwer und massiv an der niedrigen Decke. Ein Feuer brannte in dem Kamin, der aus Steinen gemauert an der entgegen Wand gelegenen war. Rechts der Tür an der Wand lag die Theke, die von Säulen der Deckenbalken unregelmäßig unterbrochen war. Auf der Theke stand ein Samowar. An der Wand links der Türe standen Die Tische und Bänke auf denen schon niedrig gebrannte Kerzen standen.
,, Hey Wirt! Schenk mir einen Vodka ein, aber keinen alt zu kleinen!", rief Ivan Zarewitsch.
,, Draußen ist es voll Schnee, drinnen glüht der Samowar, tritt ein junger Freund, deinen Vodka mache ich dir!", antwortete der dickbäuchige Wirt, der hinter der Theke stand.
An den Tischen saßen Menschen, mal Bauern, mal Reiter, mal Beamte seines Vaters, doch Ivan Zarewitsch
The Legend of CreeanuAye, what be you dirty travelers doin' at me table. Ah ye came for an ol' story then ye came to the right man lads. come sit down and let me order for ye some of the finest drinks of this 'ere tavern has to offer. I heard ye be lookin' for a good ol' spooky story eh? I might know one, good thing we got drinks and a cozy fire in this place, now listen to me lads for this is a story my ol' man used to tell me and that I experienced on me own skin.More Like This
When I used to be younger about and still had hair on me head and struggling to grow a beard I used to live on a farm workin' all day with me father for our land lord. Was that land lord a good one lads, he was kind to his peasent and his slaves not once did he let a crime go unpunished or mistreat us as other pesky shinny lickers used to. Me father was a good man he taught me everything I needed to know about the land and its secrets and let me tellye it di
Finally, Clarity, PainGently now, ever so gently,More Like This
Please put down what you are reading.
And look at me.
Look at my face.
I'm tired, see, and Suddenly
I fear, I feel, I faint.
But for truth,
You loved me, ever so much,
But my life, a simple-mind,
My inability to see,
Has ripped you to shreds.
Yes, twice, have I done this.
Twice, upon occasion,
But more, in fact,
And yet, my heart falls
With empathy, I feel the pain
Of what I have done to you.
Of what I have done to everyone.
Why did I search for you,
But tonight, my heart is soft.
My gentle, quiet, compassionate heart.
Beats so painfully against my
Please, reach out to me...
Or don't. I fear, still.
But at least, KNOW me...
Where I come from.
And stop turning away,
Please, give me that book.
Pay attention, I'm only saying this,
And I am at a loss for words,
As I stand, gaping at the mess
Gaping, in awe, in shock, in horror.
Once again, but for another reason,
UnfortunatelyMaking the sun sit stillMore Like This
In the middle of the day
Behind the clouds, behind the clouds,
And the sun is there, but seen at all?
Like the cry behind a scowl.
I've seen the broken bone,
Torn skin, marrow pouring out.
The loss is there, the cringe.
But the sun sits, still.
Behind the clouds
On the other side.