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Literature Text
Children fly, or find another
Story as this is for your mothers
Maids swell, hearken well to a plebeian tale
Perchance to believe a perception enhancing
Of boils in suits and burned elbows dancing
None of these demons are seamen's delight
In fires alight and once on a night
Called Monday in November I happened to remember
The stove being on above pepper and ember
So dreary a man rang the tin can
Above my roof with a battering ram and being that I am
A hostess of sorts I ran to abort the oven its baby
So as to maybe reach the door in good time
But heavens are grime and angels are matches
The man had a smile that lit the dead thatches
What can a roof do? As my house went downside
His gallon of bromide quite near my toes he goes
And blackens my skin and my chin hit my side
Facing the dirt my mouth ate but no taste
Hit the tongue in any good haste for I was where
The boils in suits and burned elbows dancing
Down far below with the demons a-prancing
Meanwhile back on the cindering soil
My charred backside was dripping white oil
Had my ears life they would have heard 'zip'
As the man stood up and closed his wide lip
Anyways point of the story is this
I cannot go to the meeting instead I am dead.
Story as this is for your mothers
Maids swell, hearken well to a plebeian tale
Perchance to believe a perception enhancing
Of boils in suits and burned elbows dancing
None of these demons are seamen's delight
In fires alight and once on a night
Called Monday in November I happened to remember
The stove being on above pepper and ember
So dreary a man rang the tin can
Above my roof with a battering ram and being that I am
A hostess of sorts I ran to abort the oven its baby
So as to maybe reach the door in good time
But heavens are grime and angels are matches
The man had a smile that lit the dead thatches
What can a roof do? As my house went downside
His gallon of bromide quite near my toes he goes
And blackens my skin and my chin hit my side
Facing the dirt my mouth ate but no taste
Hit the tongue in any good haste for I was where
The boils in suits and burned elbows dancing
Down far below with the demons a-prancing
Meanwhile back on the cindering soil
My charred backside was dripping white oil
Had my ears life they would have heard 'zip'
As the man stood up and closed his wide lip
Anyways point of the story is this
I cannot go to the meeting instead I am dead.
Literature
november14th.
i never had an actual birthday where i could sit back and reflect on what the world has given me thus far. i've never had the teenager-themed "surprise parties" and the traditional gift-giving, pinata-hitting, pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey slash spinthebottle games that dash away reality for the given special day. sunsets and silhouette dreams that smash reality into confetti and funfetti-half ass made birthday cake with the number of ages presented into falling-apart icing. i never understood why society would celebrate a passing year when ultimately the person is getting closer to growing into obligations of responsibilities.
but for mothers
Literature
Prologe
Thump thump
The town, Aegron, had been destroyed, Katrina knew this, had seen it. The Sekers had come and wiped it out, it happened sometimes, a way of life. The survivors would pack up and move to another town or they would wait for the brothers of Ammit to come and rescue them. This time Katrina new that no survivors would leave this place. Glancing toward the huge wardrobe where her two children had locked themselves, Katrina firmly told her self that someone would walk away, her babies would survive and go on to the next town.
Thump thump
Katrina's husband walked into the bedroom closing and locking a thick door behind him. In his hand
Literature
Kosmiczna Zaloga Ch7
02. Walka z nieznanym
Kiedy się nie wie, z czym się walczy, trudno jest zwyciężyć.
01.
"Lecimy w kierunku Ziemi. Nadświetlna nie działa, więc dotrzemy tam może za miesiąc, albo dwa. Podróż jest monotonna, nie spotkaliśmy jak dotąd żadnej planety. Może to i dobrze, bo przypominałyby mi Kraranów, o których nie chcę myśleć. Nadal niepokoi mnie dziwna śmierć Fire`a. Wyrzuciliśmy jego rozpuszczone zwłoki przez śluzę, ale nie mogę zapomnieć wyrazu jego oczu, kiedy opowiadał mi o tym, co widzia
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Inspired by true events.
Not really! Just a true discussion.
-- EDIT --
Changed the title. There is no part one.
Pretentious enough yet?
Not really! Just a true discussion.
-- EDIT --
Changed the title. There is no part one.
Pretentious enough yet?
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Comments6
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"Anyways point of the story is this
I cannot go to the meeting instead I am dead."
fantastic close
I cannot go to the meeting instead I am dead."
fantastic close