FosteringReef

In the twilight death slowly consumes the lust of shadows corruption. At the fork in the road there grows a slither of rebellion unable to comply to the needs of light. To the mystery of sudden thought could one really choose, choose again what is right, of even what is wrong.

the spontenuity of a letter written as careless and as reckless as a stab to the heart the instant he reaps it triggering responses in which he himself can not control causing a collapse in on himself the intention to fulfill that letters words wondering why it was never done before the moment he pulls himself together he'll rush in, in which he'll grab her hand That window closed, when you touched my heart.

All she ever wanted was a place to call her own. to stand by and feel the radiance of it boarders to steal a glimpse and still see its pristine ability of safety. to not have to put all the worries in a jar. In life she stood, biding by what was right to stand, she stood like them. to speak, she spoke not and to not care for her jar, she opened too many wounds. All she wanted was someone to hold her and tell her and be her wall, to always be in sight, and never loose track. Wounds of self-temptation lures once the jar... slips.

He walks in thought unaware to his surroundings well acquired to society. To this, he stops, and starres. Of a sudden realization, most consider a burden. To this day, he is well aware that life has aged once more, with more in store. He feels no glory, no older nor wiser well aware, his thoughts stop there. Stops and starres, to what society had to offer, and instead, turns to the mountains. Snow ccapped and bare, theres so much to offer there. a plain canvas, waiting for color. He walks on nodding his head in response to the day, he becomes one less to stay.

The release of an arrow, heading straight for my motivated deamonic soul, with its black veins coursing through me. The arrow, I can see, is of a tribe that dreads me, worshiping me in fear. I Am Fear. Poison pointed right at me. I am ready, and so is my shield masked in arrows, it takes its last one. This waiting has gone on long enough. Arrow shafts break, as my sheild falls to grace. Poison ruing the fresh grass around me, whats left, from what I haven't touched. A movent to my left, I see it but I look right. I see you. I turn and grasp my sword, in antticipation. Your chest rips open, course blood running from your li