Newest
Count the DaysHow should one count his days? Should he count his sleepless nights, his tiresome days? Shall he count love lost, love forsaken?Count the Days
What if he counted those few precious moments of beauty, Would they out-count the pain? What if those moments of beauty pass by unnoticed? What if he perpetually scorns them, embittered by the countless horrors of those countless days?
How many counts of beauty will need to be scored? How many will it take to shake the darkness of sleepless nights? Shake the darkness of mind that allows only the recognition of failure, The admittance of defeat
by ~I-Am-Zem
Of Spells and Sidearms: intro The fall after my twentieth birthday life changed. Life changed drastically. It changed enough that my concepts of "logic" and "reality" crawled in the corner and cried themselves to sleep for a few months. I want to tell you about these changes, and life after it. I have to warn you, though. I am not a very good writer. This problem is coupled with the fact that computers have become quite unreliable, even for a technopath of my caliber. sounds silly, using terms like that. But that's part of who I am now. This account is meant for the children of my generation. Those who didn't see the cOf Spells and Sidearms: intro
by ~I-Am-Zem
Everyone Else's AngelHe sits, head in hands. Tears hitting the cold floor below. He watches them drop, and splatter.Everyone Else's Angel
It took three hours. Three hours of promised favors, Phone calls, Pleading and begging.
He got ahold of Derrick. He was Erin's Finace. Till the fight.
He fought and talked for an hour, With Derrick. Trying to make him understand The circumstances.
He dials her number slowly. Two rings and she picks up. He says he got ahold, That she should get her now reinstated fiance's call.
Her words, though friendly, are
by ~I-Am-Zem
Favourites
No favourites yet.
WHEEE!
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
Zem I am.
I do not like green eggs and... hem?
--
~It's Not What You Look At That Matters, It's What You See. We Know What We Are, But Not What We Might Be~
--
Like Superman with kryptonite up his ass, that's not going to fly.
Previous PageNext Page