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Free Heart "What do you have there?" She asked the man on the floor.
He looked back and said, "I have nothing, go away." He clutched the object to his chest tighter, trying to hide whatever it was he had from her.
"You are a liar, let me see!" She stomped up to him, and crossed her arms, "Let me see what you have."
"No!" He shouted, "You are not to see what I have, you are of no use! You can't help me anyway!"
She stood there silent for a moment, before she said gently, "Please can I see you?"
He was silent, thinking over her question. Much better than her shouting and demanding. He made up his mind, "Okay..." He stood up slowly, his back still to her. He was reluctant. He didn't want her making a big deal out of what he had. She always blws things out of proportions...
"Can you turn around?" She asked him.
Very slowly, he turned around to face her. His chest had a g
Simple GesturesLonely wolf, bleeding and wounded on the snowy ground
He snarles as a woman comes around
Ignoring his warning, she bends down in the white snow stained maroon
She tears off her sleeves and begins to dress his wounds
He lets his guard down, he knows he needs help
He reverts back to the time when he was just a young whelp
Even though he can tear her limb from limb with his mighty jaws
And he can break her to pieces with his razor claws
She seems unafraid by this creature belonging to the moon
But she must get him back on all four paws soon
She works with determination and quick deft hands
And is slightly surprized that this is something wolf can with stand
She finishes her job, and gives a pat on his head
Wolf stands up with effort, and lightly licks her on the face, greatful he isn't dead
She gives a smile, and gestures for him to go
He looks back one last time as he runs away,knowing he is able to come back to the girl in the snow.
Dance With the SeasonsTake my hand and dance with me in the rain
Let the water flow and wash away all of the pain
Let the wind howl and blow away your fears
Let the lightning strike and evaporate your tears
Take my hand and dance in the snow
Feel the cold in your feet and just let go
Feel the chill fill your lungs and breathe out your sorrow
Stay out here with me until daybeak of tomorrow
Take my hand and dance in the sun
Feel the heat on your face and let your pity be done
Feel the rays on your skin and let happiness shine brighter
Let the warmth carry your soul higher
Take my hand and dance in the leaves
Let the colors steal heartbreak away like little theives
Feel the leaves fall around us to the ground
And hold me close without a sound
AutopsyThe table is cold, she cannot move
The metal beneath her is icy and smooth
Her eyes are glued shut, she cannot see
She is being prepared for her autopsy
The coroner stands above with a saw in hand
The blade comes to life at his simple command
He digs into her chest, and cuts her up
He doesn't break a sweat, not a hiccup
He pulls out her heart, and examines it so
It is course and rough and has caught an arrow
It's so full of stitches and healing wounds
No wonder she's dead, there was no room for it's health to improve
The coroner puts the heart in a jar of clear liquid
The smell is pungent, strong, and acrid
A moment later, he pulls it back out,
And places it in the girl, and restores her with doubt.
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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