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When you are depressed you write all kinds of poems
Dark clouds = dark moods. Blue skies = Cheering up.
After his wife Ariana's tragic death, Matt is determined to prove his love to her despite the face that she is gone forever. Ever since the unforgettable night that occurred only a week ago, his life has been filled with much regrets of hardly being there when she needed him most, and he knows...
By Kevin Rottweiler
Mother Nature and God raining upon the sidewalks
Poetry | Updated Aug 11, 2014 | Reads: 4 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
By Ellie Taler
Why do we have to live in a hurry?
Do the great things actually happen so fast?
Is it the time in a hurry?
Or it is us who rush things up?
Short Story | Updated Jul 31, 2014 | Reads: 18 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 1
There is beauty all around us-Even on a Hot Summer Day.
Poetry | Updated Jul 29, 2014 | Reads: 9 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 1
Armaan Kashyap, a middle aged man, goes to hospital to see his wife, Riya, who was in coma for six years but when she discovers this, she has many problems to handle with the children.There are many problems in the course of the story. Will she handle it? or will she quit and leave her family?...
Short Story | Updated Jul 19, 2014 | Reads: 120 | Comments: 17 | Likes: 37
By Ted Gerard
It's about a succubus, demon hunters and a young girl becoming a woman of sorts...
16 year old Kevin Warner senses that there is something strange about his friend Emily, but things are even more bizarre when a police officer visits the store he works at one night, telling them that they must hurry home because a criminal is on the loose. Little do they know, there is more to...
Sunday, a day described to relax. Well, of all those week days Sunday is always awaited. Look out, in the poem, Sunday Morning, what Zeevi feels on one such morning.
The rating will most likely be changed to R later. Forewarning.
The end of normal is upon her. Death is knocking on the door. Her parents are dead. She is scarred. The world is in shambles. Just what is going on? She plans to find out. With meager supplies and suffering spirit she sets out on...
Um, I just like the rain sounds, you dig? Ok, no, I don't talk like that, but yes, I do like the way the rain sounds against my walls, and when I open the window.
Poetry | Updated Jul 8, 2014 | Reads: 9 | Comments: 3 | Likes: 4
By Kevin Rottweiler
A Rottweiler in the rain
Poetry | Updated Jul 7, 2014 | Reads: 2 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
A part in the story when the character meet their first archangel, a being of both angel and demon.