seraphymx

He sits there by night. Look, peep in the window over here; do you see the haggard old man in the chair by the desk? He sleeps the sleep of those who have seen too much; light is his sleep when heavy is his mind. Soft grey hair curls across the forehead, a shimmer of darkness still fading in its rays. His eyelids are drooping, and scarred hands grip, within some dream or other, tightly at the wood of armrests beneath his fingertips. Away, beyond the pale cold that embraces us, crackles a fire - soundless and mocking, a mockery of warmth that cannot be felt. The soft glow that drove him here to his chair bravely fights the deepening darkness

I saw a man who cried, I asked of him who died. The soldiers far away, So the weeping man replied. We honor them this day. Do we mourn for just our own, Or does one fallen foes bemoan? They too found themselves a grave, And no longer freely roam: They who for their country gave. Tell me not to bow my head, And mourn just for our dead. Let me weep my tears for all, Those who followed, those who led; And write upon honor's wall, The names of all the dead. I honor the dead, Not in just a day, But all the time, In my own way.

All are they hassled and tassled and to be Made up, in sort; searching of some beauty. Some in mime, truth of chemical form or Powdered in kind as all kind - hidden. Sightly; saying so - lost and untrue; Balanced against some, or others, To wit now hides the beauty of you.

Oh my brothers, warriors all and true, Though death itself now comes for you, Steel your hearts and take up the blade, The glory we'll here win shall never fade! Be strong and steady, let us fight; Shout now your songs into the night, Sing songs of battle, let them hear, Let them know that we have no fear! Drink up your ales, down your mead, Pray that now our gods now take heed, Sharpen blades and ready steeds, For all will remember our deeds! Let us charge now, let them come, We shall slay each and every one, Unleash your soul, the inner beast, For soon for the fallen we will feast. Blow a hole in the walls a mile wide, Stan

I just wanted to say, I love you today. But the truth is, hey, I love you every day. With you I'd love to sway, Side by side, spend the day, With you while time away, Because I love you that way. So would you let me say, If just once today, Or maybe every day, I love you this way, I love you Maja.

Plato, oh great Plato, What have you done? Your word's the veto, And with words that run, You've destroyed the fun. Oh great philosopher, If your words were true, Then now decipher, With acts, or words in lieu Did Socrates love you? A great mind of reason, All you've taught today, For us in every season; Is, so they say, To love, the platonic way.

I am so lucky, A lucky ducky. I am so happy, A happy chapy. I am free to be, If you love me. I am in love, A soaring dove. I miss you, And it's true, I love you.

From over the horizon, A darkness is rising. Be it night or day, It comes from far away. Rising to whirl in the sky, Cause of sunshine to die, Threatening and so nigh, Dark and oh so high. To feel it in your bones, As through skies they roam. Feel it run through your mind, And know it responds in kind. And so they are ever running, They will amass and crowd, They are the storm clouds, The storm is coming.

Doctor Hadrian Dazir was stressed. Extremely stressed. All around him, chaos reigned as he struggled against the tide of insanity that his life had suddenly become. Chaos. Pure chaos. The moments passed by and he stood still and silent, a weather-beaten boulder among the rapids of a relentless river. The seconds ticked by, until something yanked him back from the confines of his mind. "Doctor Dazir? Doctor? Doctor Dazir!" The voice was loud, insistent, but it was the urgency that brought him back to the reality around him. He looked down at the young woman standing in front of him, dressed in the garb of a medical nurse. "Are you alright, D

You question the meaning of Lawyer's words, And doubt the truth of what he sees, But take not the time to consider the flight of birds, And the whispers of the trees. Question not that which you do not understand, Nor blindly accept what you know to be true, But understand that which comes from a foreign land, And doubt that which comes easily to you. For what now is true, And what you believe to be so, Will become clear to you, Not that you'll realize though.