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Mirrors/eyes are the windows
to our souls...
Allowing others to see
Staring at myself I see all
my faults, all my shortcomings.
Every broken heart
Every bleeding wound lays
open before the all seeing eye
that is not an eye at all.
Side by side with myself
we stare at our reflections...
which is illusion and which reality?
I reach to touch this stranger
in my skin as he reaches for me.
I look to the left, he looks right.
My exact opposite in every way
he is everything I wish I was not
but sometimes long to be.
Scarred, leather skinned, armor plated.
Eyes hard from battles won and lost.
Tall, muscular, with an air that commands attention.
I pull away (so does he)
and smile as I turn and walk away.
He never cares if I am on time or not.
Never cares that I havent brushed my teeth yet.
Never cares that I didnt get an A on that last test.
Never cares that I dress like a freak.
All he cares about is that I come
and visit every once a while.
So I stare into the
America Under Attack - Matrix7
Darkest hours of the morning
shattered by a blinding light.
Hear a roar not unlike thunder
hear the people's desperate cries.
Shockwaves of emotion tumble
to the ground so far below.
People run and fall and tumble
as twins of iron begin to groan.
Yet again a roar of rage
emiting from a fiery crash.
People locked inside a cage
taunted by the soot and ash.
Choosing death, they fall and tumble
crushed or burned, no choice was left.
Tears begin and vision jumbles
"Oh my God.." is all that's said
Other places burn with fire
a demon from our darkest dreams.
All we want/hope/wish/desire
is wake up from this horrid dream.
Loose the demon from its prison
invite it to rip out your throat.
Taste the sulfur, stop and listen
"Just the start" it rasps and gloats.
It just awoke the sleeping giant
Signed in our blood its own death...
For what this demon has just started
goes Where Angels Dare Not Tread.
My condolences and prayers with the families
and friends of the people in this tr
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More