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No one really has a chance of surviving. Everyone seems to believe humanity's on a timer and death lurks around every corner whether it be the soulless empire, the weaponised cold or your fellow man. You can't survive in this apocalypse. The only one who's out of this mind set is Luke Terrance...
A poem I wrote last night when I was shut up in my room at night when things are the hardest to face and everything comes flooding back.
A young boy and his mother are tortured by an abusive father, but from the hatred of the boy's soul he creates dark figure that lives in the shadows and hunts down anyone who harms children.
By Mr Ezimuor
The writing of Sound of redemption. The man standing within the wall but distanced within his own mind. On these corners of walls God spoke to me. Yeah the God spoke to me about these distance and difficult road ahead. Yes God did, but I was seeking a blind fortune. Coming back from those days,...
Little did she know.
Poetry | Updated Feb 21, 2013 | Reads: 7 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
Feeling low and need to have a rant about shit. Enjoy my pain. x
Footnote to be taken note of: Anything of violent nature or murderous incentive is displayed and to be taken metaphorically.
begginning of a first chapter, rough draft so be as critisising as you like enjoy................xxx
For The Booksie Contest of a Lifetime, Round One. Probably among the weirdest entries you're going to get, but it is true to a good deal of the songs lyrics, so I don't think I broke any rules. And don't worry, even though the genre is horror there's not much graphic detail at all in there.
about my guitar. i got it off my dad before he died. =( this is dedicated to him!
the way my life is without you
Poetry | Updated Jun 6, 2010 | Reads: 2 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 2
hey ok, its my english course work, we had to write about a 'recent memroable change' so here it is please tell me what you think... (it had to be about 500 words long so thats why its so short)
Poetry | Updated May 29, 2009 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
Thinking about some people go to church every Sunday, wear the cross, but can be so cruel and inconsiderate of the world around them.
Poetry | Updated Mar 21, 2009 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 1
...As we march forward into progress.