Sing a song of suspense in which the players die.Four and twenty ravens in an Edgar Allan Pie.When the pie was broken, the ravens couldn't sing.Their throats had been sliced open by Stephen, the new King.The King was in his writing house, stifling a laughWhile his queen was in a tizzy of her bloody Lovecraft.When the dead maid got the garden for her rank as royal whore,King's shovel made it double and he married nevermore.
He stepped back and threw his arms out."I'm always crazy around you Rose. Here, I'm going to write an impromptu poem for you."He tipped his head back and shouted to the sky:"Rose is in redBut never in blueSharp as a thornFights like one too.
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He stepped back and threw his arms out."I'm always crazy around you Rose. Here, I'm going to write an impromptu poem for you."He tipped his head back and shouted to the sky:"Rose is in redBut never in blueSharp as a thornFights like one too.
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If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.
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she slammed the door andwas gone.I looked at the closed doorand at the doorknoband strangelyI didn't feelalone.
I remembered those frantic seconds when I__ thought all I loved and knew, all that was Sydney Sage, would be lost from this world. My battered friends and I had just had a brush with death, dancing with this evil. We__ destroyed it, but it was terrifying how touch and go it all had been. At any moment, the Strigoi could have gained the advantage and killed one or all of us. Life and death were inextricably bound together, and we wavered between them. But we__ triumphed over death tonight. We were alive, and the world was beautiful. Life was beautiful, and I refused to waste mine.
But how conceive a God supremely good/ Who heaps his favours on the sons he loves,/ Yet scatters evil with as large a hand?[Written after an earthquake in Lisbon killed over 15,000 people]