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Random First Lines:Her name is Eli Grace, and she hasn't talked to Angels for years... » Read
Sometimes we beg for physical pain rather than psychological and this was my very big shout out!
Poetry | Updated Nov 19, 2015 | Reads: 13 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 1
By Jeremy Walker
Finally took the time to write more lyrics to this song lol which I think is my best one even though I don't work on it much. I just have so many ideas I haven't even posted on here yet. Now you know how all great bands never run out of songs lol ;) Anyways. Let me know what you think and if...
By Unjust Mohan
How many heads a person can have? An antique seller, in his enthusiasm showcase two skulls stated to be of the same person. The deal fails.
Poetry | Updated Aug 28, 2014 | Reads: 17 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 0
The deceptive eyes of the belle. The poet regrets after she runs away!
By Georgina V Solly
The story of the strange skull from Africa.
Short Story | Updated May 6, 2013 | Reads: 3 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
the tragic tale of a man in trapped in the depths of madness
Makrog is a simple blacksmith's son living in Broken Steel, he lives simply and has no worries about money. He goes out to The Bawd's Theft almost every night like most people in Broken Steel do... Until he is thrust into a world of dark magic and the quest to find The Dark Grail... Will he...
Had to write a short story for my 10th grade english honors class so I spent my weekend writing this. I like the way it came out it really fits my style which is usually hopelessness and grotesque in a way. either way hope you enjoy it :)
From my J.R.Tolkien side, this is a fantasy poem including a witch, skeletons and an enchanted skull (as the poem's name suggests) If you enjoy epic and slightly overreacting poems, proceed :)
Comments always welcome and appreciated :)
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he walked over to the televisions he had placed on his desk, all of which were hooked up to the CCTv cameras he had positioned in each of the rooms of his house. He surveyed the rooms on the screens and deciding that they were all empty, he unbolted his door.
A brief meditation on Death.
The powers of the skull
Well when I was 12 I use to spend all my time writing and my friends would get mad at me because I would Per say ditch them. So they stop hanging with me and talked about me, then they took it to far and ripped of my papers which in truth were devoted to them, I never told them... this is how I...
Poetry | Updated Jun 14, 2010 | Reads: 1 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
By Randall Stone
The addresses of our two new sites. All are welcome to join ans expose their work to a wider audience.