Ratta tat tat, the gunshots fire. The smell of flesh from a burning pyre. A bloody spray tints the mist. A dead man clenches his cold, white fist. The cost of honour is stained red hands, the mental burden of killing a man. Ratta tat tat, the gunshots sou...
Find your next favourite story now
Login
About
As I have most of my work posted on another site, the things I will post will not be new per se. I will mostly be posting poetry and short stories that I have written over the past few years. They likely won't be in chronological order. I write mostly dark things, but every now and again a little ray of light finds it's way into my poems. I am sixteen and already running out of inspiration for things to write about. Thank you for visiting my page and I hope you like what you see.
Interests
Writing (of course), Piano, Singing, Music in general, Being individual me.
Favorite Books
Oh there is too many.
Favorite Authors
Orson Scott Card, Tamora Pierce.
Favorite Music
Quite a variety.
Interests
Writing (of course), Piano, Singing, Music in general, Being individual me.
Favorite Books
Oh there is too many.
Favorite Authors
Orson Scott Card, Tamora Pierce.
Favorite Music
Quite a variety.
View all
The sounds of night darkness calling the sparkling specks of light in the sky twinkling a silent message of millennia gone and only centuries to come by their dwindling light In cities human-crafted plastic replacing stars blotting them out clotting the b...
Clasp the wheel your hands do nothing and you can't feel as you lose control. Black on black the screeches sound and you've lost track of time. It's like slow motion is taking over there's no emotion as steel hits steel. The only sound is sirens calling b...