Prose
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- Written by: gatheredsouls13
- Category: Prose
- Hits: 2734
Arising to the sun emitting though the window of his beautiful house on the countryside
the first thought he has to wake to is such a great day for a photo shoot
He takes in a deep breath of air not knowing what the day ahead of him will display
he tosses off his covers and jumps to his feet with a bit of confusion from a good nights rest.
He slips on his house shoes made to look like lions the reason for the lions is his deep love for
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- Written by: Vangoman/ Dan Van Fleet
- Category: Prose
- Hits: 3392
It was on the morning of glory that I found you, bound by two brutes holding your wrists down against the dirty dirt. They meant to take from you your beauty through your innocents, but your eyes caught mine and mine spun into a raging fire. Swiftly my heart begged me to move against those who touch the single warmth of your innocent skin, so I thrust my sword across their necks and watched gladly their useless heads find the ground next to you.
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- Written by: Vangoman/ Dan Van Fleet
- Category: Prose
- Hits: 2342
The rock quarry near the mine shaft could feel the sliding down of our knees and morals, exploring the grains in the vein that soon will stain us properly in playful games and fantasies. In a total disregard for the suns heat and sweat, we move to a disapproving song that fattens our blue bruised sliding down feet, as we turn the clean upside down sky into dirty mine trails. We wonder if a release agent on the deeply grain form holding desires at bay are stack against us or will help to release us from the gold mines we desire.
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- Written by: Vangoman/ Dan Van Fleet
- Category: Prose
- Hits: 2310
Shhh, quietly sneak your peak at these words, layered in darken shadows this crime, or more appropriately a criminal act of epic terror is about to take your place. Quiet you’re self with breathlessness for even in reading these words, whispering sounds can be found near the fear, sneaking up behind you with the horrific homicidal sounds of fingernails on chalkboards, while cauterizing the leftover dim light of your dead and dying eyes. Here comes the shush in the dryness of your bad breath mouths, Shhh.
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- Written by: soi-disant
- Category: Prose
- Hits: 1968
whats raging through the town at 3 in the morning but a butterfly in a white silk dress screaming for the noise and traffic of the cars and clubs buses and computer hubs. its looking for the dust that settles on the edge of my nose. looking out at the suns horizon with magnifying glasses. the butterfly exclaims "what a beautiful place to live! What a wonderful time to play a game...." and with that he asks to join our game of hide n seek. Disappears, no trace, no squeak. The butterfly leaves us with his sarcasmin this desolate town he called home. It fluttered away disgusted "how lame, i must leave, i must leave before yesterday!"
