

The Clockthe pillars of life that surround meThe Clock
for time is what holds the key
an avalolanche of time continueing untill the very last chime day in and day out we watch the clock who knows when there will be the last tock wasting it like it was nothing always waiting for something that will never come
as we reach for the last crum we realise that we are nothing wich makes us something for the clock on the wall tells us it all


Last Autumn"I'm not here..." a shallow voice in my head whispers. My hands rub the smooth wood of the pew; the design of the edge tickles my fingers, telling me what my closed eyes can't. "I'm not here," the voice repeats.Last Autumn
"Does your face always do that when you concentrate?" laughs a voice to my right. My eyes open to catch the sight of his dirty blonde hair getting jostled by the wind before a large, golden leaf, as if out of nowhere, delivers the smack to his check that I was seriously considering dealing. The large brown eyes that pop out from behind the leaf as he pries it from his check are
i love u
-xxxx-
ps i feel da love
*hug*
--
Home is behind, The world ahead. And there are many paths to tread.
Through shadow, To the edge of night Until the stars are all alight
Mist and shadow, Cloud and shade, All shall fade, All shall...fade.
--
Kurt
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