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Demons From A Broken HeartIt was dark in the dungeons. The cold, dark dampness was oppressive in and of itself. The wrought iron bars and chains where a whole other story. Through the darkness a single pair of sad crystal blue eyes remained bright, like single beacon out on the dark sea.
A leather clad man marched briskly through the dark halls, prisoners moaning in fear as he passed by, for his heart was as black as his garb. He approached the blue eyed prisoner, his confidence slowly draining but he refused to show it.
"I thought you would never come Guy."
He was tempted to remove the walls he had so strongly built. He ordered them to stand their ground, using all his will power to keep them standing strong. He would not succumb to her charms again.
"I had to ask you some questions for the sheriff," was all he managed to say while keeping his voice steady and deep.
"For the sheriff? Or for you?"
He ignored her. Part of him wanted to see her face, but she remained hidden in the darkness. The light of her eyes
Inside Your HeavenIt was early spring when Marian of Knighton became Lady Marian of Locksley. The dew on the grass that morning resembled that of a peaceful frost. It was still chilly that morning when the church bells rang, but the air was clean and clear, and the weather was the farthest thing from the bride and groom's thoughts. For neither of them could predict the approaching storm that night, their thoughts where only for one another that day.
Robin felt as if he was living in a dream. His love had finally become his wife and she now lay curled up beside him in his arms, sleeping peacefully. His fingers continuously traced her soft skin as the scent of her hair tickled his nose.
His eyelids felt heavy, it had been a long day and he wasn't surprised that he was tired.
He thought he would be able to sleep peacefully with his bride curled up beside him on their wedding night. He hoped the demons from Acre would leave him alone for just once, at least just this one night. But as h
The Reawakening Chp. 4The Reawakening
Dead Man Walking
He was a ghost wasn't he?
Katara ran those thoughts through her mind again and again. Trying to convince herself that what she saw, that what she felt wasn't real. That it was all just a dream, a figment of her imagination.
But the warmth from his hands, his body, his breath, the strength and firmness in his grip, and especially the brightness of his golden eyes. They all left his mark on her, they where all too real in her memory.
She was without a doubt shaken to her very core. She didn't know what was going on. A dead man was breathing once again and the living, especially her, where barely able to breath themselves. She found herself shivering and hugging herself with her arms. Her friends only stared at her, concern carved into their expressions. Little did they know that a dead man was walking throughout the tunnels of the tomb.
"Katara?" Sokka asked. "Is everything alright?"
She barely heard him, her eyes where fixated on the ground in
The Litany IIITo those who you pledge your life
In the end may it be worth the strife
Part Thirteen:For the Loyal
Of all the years Much had known Robin he never thought this was how his master and friend would meet his end. Especially now, when he was finally able to call Marian and a child his own.
If it wasn't for the blade pressed against his neck he would have attempted to free his friend, even if it cost him his own life.
Tears pricked his eyes as he saw Robin before the noose. He felt as if all hope was lost then. But hope was rejuvenated in his heart when he saw the true King Richard approaching the castle, finally home from the holy land.
His gaze wandered to the sheriff whose face was riddled with fear. The sheriff's greatest and most powerful enemy was at his front door, demanding entrance.
He watched as the sheriff reluctantly gave the order to open the castle gates, but not before whispering something to Gisbourne, who left the courtyard in haste.
The wrought iron slowly creaked open, al
Thoughts of VanishingsAs you age
Your mind looses the creativity of its youth
All these novels in my head
Will they disappear?
As age decays my mind
Will I lose the brilliance that makes me who I am?
My passion for the life and world ahead
I don't want
It all to disappear
I like who I am
Let time have my youth and beauty but leave my mind alone
For without the thoughts
That are my own
I am nothing
Just a breathing corpse living life on cruise control
Put my vanishing thoughts on paper and screen
Will they be lost?
Only time will tell.
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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