movealong

The midnight-wolf follows the hawk. Rustling in the moon-dark, gentle, serene quiet, One step kindles the ginger-sharp leaves moving. A shadow, dancing dark and cold through the placid forest, Wild wind tries in vain to see what is within the darkness, Fails to look and fails to find the stalker and the stalked. There is no moon tonight, the masked hunter is out in forests cold; Innocence before him shall bend until it breaks within the strain. A beat of gentle wings moving through frosty wind-shaded air, Form and silhouette coasting silent upon unseen storms. No foliage shall stop the blaze of bold light that stirs, Try and try ag

Withdrawal Solanna (this is pronounced sole-anna) Prisma (prism-ah) sat alone in the lunchroom, as she usually did, her twentieth-century box-like tape player in one hand and her equally old, equally large headphones in the other hand. Smiling slightly at the ancient technology, she plugged the carefully polished headphone jack into the radio and, slipping the headphones on, ignoring various squeaks and groans of plastic rubbing together, was greeted by a burst of Attack by Thirty Seconds to Mars. The sad, desperate chords blasted out in hearing of the people at the tables near her as she miraculously mouthed the words and ate at the same ti

I am unseen from all who use me for their unknown motives, I walk in shadows grey, beyond a single bloody tear; my life's a memory of a storm, raging dim against its own willpower, torn between sweet freedom and unbearable imprisonment. No matter where I run, I see the pain of my own actions, trying hard to reach them, but still failing in the end; failing to show the fact that I regret what I have done. The tears you see are not my own, and neither is the pain, they were placed upon me by the anger, rage and hate they always show. Moonlight is the only thing that soothes my pain, its gentle glow healing the terror that lives consta