Saturday, February 12, 2005
He called her in.
Not to talk, but to hold her.
Hold her close, not to contemplate their loss.
Their loss of one month, their baby's birthday.
I'm not there. Not there with you.
Not there for happy days, by the swing in the playground.
Not there to show you my new tooth.
Gape at your joyful faces, seduce you with my charms.
Walk with you.
You hold my hand and let go. No support.
To lands of candied dreams and soft bed springs.
I wave goodbye, so do you.
Wave goodbye again for good.
But remember my chesire grin.
Of days by the play pen, you and I.
Just you and I.
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A soft note, on the loss of childhood innocence.
To all singles, love is not good for you, its brings about marriage, hate, and above all lust!
Anything thats is pleasureable is bad for you.
So stay single, stay safe.
deadnessmaster live again at 10:39 PM
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
They laboured in the sticky mud of the plantations that was Disgrove. Father and son toiled in the hot boiling sun under the watchful eyes of the Slavers, who patrolled in the vicinity. Their menacing whips kept in hand for easy use and reaction to any faltering slaves. The pace of planting the seedlings in the mud for growth must not be slowed down, the figerls; a rare plant used in the production of most of the magic scrolls, could not be left out of the soil for too long before they shrivelled and died.
" Father i'm tired..." The tanned-skin youth complained to his father who was tilling the soil for him to place the seedlings into it.
"Hush... not so loud, keep the pace and try to.. forget your tiredness. You do not want them to hear us talking, do you?" The middle-aged man jerked his head in ther direction of the slavers, whom were now grouped together in a conversation.
The boy sighed and shuffled through the mud towards the next hole dug by his father, and placed the seedling into the mud, and patted the hole close.
" If its any consolation to you," his father whispered to his son, " I know where it is finally."
This perked the boy's interest, " You solved the map?"
"Yes, I solved the map, I found out where the shard is." His father whispered back in the same hushed tones, his head always bowed and him always moving towards the next empty space of mud.
" You there!" Rang the shout of a slaver.The plantation labourers although continued their work, the place had now fallen into a silent atmosphere, that was tensed with the anticipation of bad things to come.
Fahter and son continued thier work in mute silence, their muddied jerkins now stiff from the mud, dried fromthe unforgiving red orb in the sky.
" You two! Stop talking." Shouted the slaver. None of the labourers dared to raise their head in the direction of the slaver, for fear that they might be acknowledging that they were the ones he was talking about.
The boy started to tremble in terror, his dark grey eyes fixated upon the ground before him, always looking for the next hole, and the next hole. The same repetitive motion, that was a planter's job.
" Stop both of you, stop planting." Called the slaver, who was now walking towards them, and uncoiling his whip. The boy knew that to stop his work, would be to give the slaver an excuse to use his whip.
So the dirty blonde haired boy continued on his way behind his father. Then came the lash of the whip, like a streak of black slicing through the air, covering the distance between the slaver and the duo in an instant. His father crumbled to his knees, his callused hands gripping the whip now wrapped around his neck.
By then most of the labourers had stopped their work to chance a glimpse upon the unfolding drama, before they continued on their own work.
The teen by now had drop to his knees as well, trying to pry the tightening whip around his father's neck. His torn fingers scrabbling on the hemp of the rope, tears streaming down his face, as he frentically tried to prevent his father from choking to death. Another lash whipped through the air, nipping the side of the boy's face, openning a shallow gash on his cheek. The boy cries out in pain and falls on his side into the mud, blood now seeping from his wound. He sits up in a hurry to get to his father's side, in the distance the slavers are laughing in the enjoyment of this event of the day. The boy sees that his father is turning pale, as he struggles to breathe. The old man suddenly hugs his son, pulling his son close and slipping a bunch of oiled papers into his son's pocket, all the while the whip tightened with his every moment. The boy could only be held in his father's grip, tears streaming from his eyes at the horridness of the situation.
The time time suspended itself, the boy feels his father's arms fall from his back. He could only kneel there in the wet mud, as his father fell to his side, eyes closed in acceptance and lips spread into a sad smile. The shock was too much, the boy could only kneel in the cool, wet mud in the humid weather eyes staring at the wide unforgiving expanse of sky. The slavers were now approaching, winding their whips as they drew closer.
The boy struggles to his feet, his mind in a state of rage that men can only reach in their weakest of moments, he screams contempt at the slavers and hurls himself to them, with all the intent to rip them apart. As he flung himself towards them, his father's murderer backhands him across the face, hard.
The boy dropped into the mud, he knew how futile it was to go against them, and as the slavers laughed at his pitiful attempt of revenge, the boy could only cry tears of hate.
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That was then, now a man, he called himself Deadness, a title of remembrance of how he would forever feel, dead and emotionless. He finally managed to escape from that hell, during a moonless night when the slavers were having a celebration of the recent harvest. He then fled to the woods, with only the clothes on his back and the maps to the shard of Nemine in his pocket. He would fufill his father's dream, no matter the cost and he would then go back and make them pay.
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Like the action? Its actually a biography of a character i'm creating. Comments people...
Thanks.
deadnessmaster live again at 8:43 PM