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RainOne day again the rain shall fall, and wash away the trouble.
The creeks and rivers will come back to life and once again begin to bubble.
The leaves and trees will go back to green, and birds will sing their songs
Gardens will begin to grow again and bugs will go where they belong.
One day again the rain shall fall, and paint the sky with gray
The dust will settle down for once, and be still for a day
The ants will build their nests up high to keep from flooding out
They are prepared to face the end of this terrible drought.
One day again the rain shall fall, and I shall stand out with it
The hair on my head soaking wet, as I close my eyes and embrace it
The water drips off my arms and fingers as I let I pour over me
The cool feeling and sound of pattering drops brings me pure sweet serenity.
No TearsI do not cry, I hold it in
That's the way it has always been
Tears are not allowed to escape from my eyes
Instead I put on a smiling disguise.
I do not cry, I do not allow it
But sometimes it's hard, I do admit...
My eyes stay dry until the time is right
When your back is turned, and I am alone at night.
I do not cry, it shows my weakness
Not a single drop, for anyone, nor avis.
You're not allowed to see me when I am upset
Don't ask me to show you, no abet.
I do not cry, I am too full of pride
You will only see a single side.
Just for you I will put on a smile
And I will let you think what you want, all the while
HomeThis is too much, I hate this place
It's always a time crunch, always a race.
I'm surrounded by strangers, people I don't know
I just want to fall asleep, and wake up at home.
I miss my own bed, and my messy room
I miss fighting with my sisters, and being promised doom.
I miss good coffee in the morning, and my mothers hugs
I miss stopping my dog from chewing on the rugs.
This really sucks, I want to go home.
In my little garden, just like a gnome.
I miss my friends and everyone left behind
But I must stay, and at night, my teeth continue to grind.
Little BirdieOnce there was a little birdie, who lived outside the door
He wanted to go inside, and hop up off the floor
"Oh no," said his Mommy,"You must stay with me."
"Litle birds are safest, sitting in the tree."
Little birdie sighed, and gave his tale a fling.
"I don't think those old folks, quite know everything."
So down flew little birdie, and Mr. Kitty ate him before he had time to blink,
"Oh I am so sorry!" Little birdie cried, "I just did not think!"
DemonsI must face my demons and turn my weakness to strength
No more keeping my fears at my arm's length
I must pull them close and look them in the eye
And say "This is enough, alright?"
I must face my demons and and show them no fear
No more running, my message will adhere
I must pull them close and and look them in the face
And say "I am sick of you making me look like a disgrace."
I must face my demons and stand my ground
No more being timid, my courage must be found
I must pull them close, and whisper in their ear,
"You are finished, now leave from here."
I must face my demons, and vanquish them,
No more hiding, it's them I will end
I must pull them close, with a sword in their throat,
And say, "I am facing you, time for a demon fur coat!"
ConcernedHello again, how are you today?
Have you made any new friends, or found monsters to slay?
Are you being safe, not in to much trouble?
Are you having a time, being blissful?
How have you been, are you eating well?
Is your stomach full, does the pizza man ring your bell?
Are you getting sleep, plenty of rest?
Are you feeling okay, not too stressed?
What have you been up to, getting air?
Do you have room to brethe, free of dispair?
Have you been having fun, not to restricted?
I hope you're doing well, not too acrid.
Just do me a favor, and please keep well.
Don't get hurt or fall down a stairwell
Sorry, I just don't want you to feel unspurned,
I'm just like always, a bit concerned...
A Turning Point in the Clockwork WarA war of attrition
depends on supply and drawdown,
how much you have and how much you use up.
With personnel, the balance concerns
the influx of recruitment versus
the outflow of casualties, deserters, invalids.
There is only so much loss
that a fighting force can sustain
and still fight.
Pilot Claude Archer was the first
to challenge his invalid discharge.
"I don't need legs to fly," he said,
patting the healed stumps of his thighs.
"My Osprey runs on elbow grease."
The members of the discharge board
paused and looked at each other.
What he said was true.
The Osprey-class fighter jets
relied on hand controls,
and a sharp eye and iron nerve.
Fingers flicked through the stack
of discharge papers -- so many, many pages.
So many soldiers lost, never to fight again.
They could not afford to let slip even one
who might be retained, somehow,
to face the front line once more.
Far less could the war effort spare
one of its best pilots.
So they put Pilot Archer back on the roster,
The Panic Room (A Supernatural One-Shot)“Dean…? Dean?”
The name felt like lead on Sam’s tongue, so thick and heavy that he wasn’t sure if the syllable had actually made it past his lips.
The only reason he was aware of something cutting into his neck was the trail of red that was marking a small pathway against the stark fabric of his shirt. The dark suit and tie that usually accompanied the white-collared look were missing, but he couldn’t remember why.
His brother’s name seemed to drop soundlessly into the dark space before him. Everything felt heavy. Dull. Maybe he was dreaming.
But dreams shouldn’t smell of dust and abandonment. They shouldn’t be framed by cobwebs and wallpaper so aged that their floral design has faded into funeral bouquets. They shouldn’t have flickering candlelight and robed figures looking down on you.
No, dreams shouldn’t be like that.
But Winchesters don’t have dreams. They have nightmares. Sam smile
may as well buy another packcollapse, and breathe into the carpet:
sunday mornings are not
for falling apart, but damn
the amphorics, this
is not an atmosphere.
you fell in love like you always
wish you didn't, made all their
smiles replaceable, interchangeable,
fell asleep with shadows and kept
drinking, just letting yourself sleep
with blue pills
and tried not to scream.
(keep this image in your head:
fire and nectarines, a sudden jerk
of realization, inspiration
breaking your neck and leaving you forever
breaking bones is not so different
from breaking hearts - it's all about
the leverage, the angle, the mode
(and at least it wasn't personal;
it can color in your own guilt
for starting lines and never ending
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