Horror story is not result of accident.
Tickle my heart with your pen. Write me for all to read. Bind our love inside a book. Make me your poetry.
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Tickle my heart with your pen. Write me for all to read. Bind our love inside a book. Make me your poetry.
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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.
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.
When life is a horror....Don't look like a ghost!
Nothing Makes Me Feel Happier Than Seeing A Child Smile From Happiness.
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.