Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.
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Poems are invisible flowers on my skin.
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True vampires that want to build a strong family does not go around turning people just because they want to. But even the most sensible of vampire can be tempted by beauty. When you come across someone whose beauty seems to be made of the stars themselves, then you want to preserve that beauty forever. Despite knowing that it may not be the best idea in the world. But then beauty is a power all of its own.
Wrath crawled out from the well,on direction from Hell,to get back what it once lost.With vengeance in mind,it set out to find,a specified soul to accost.When the Hell-well beckoned,Mother__ will now reckoned,her dead soul now wholly enslaved.Embodied in a rotting husk,the corpse reeked of putrid musk,her being wholly depraved.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more.
Love is an exorcism of angels.
You stole my story and something's got to be done about it.