number1horsemaniac

Ballad of Watters Who is it that inspired your life? Cold, dark and wretched, Yet filled with such light? Monstrous, evil hands That tainted and tore, Curdled your hems And un-bridled your core – Held your nightmare feral, Ate away at your dreams Until they grew deformed. The soul's stuck in its hollow, As the sky has grown dark And it's scared and it thrashes And it reaches for love But the world is the enemy, And the enemy's too much. So stay locked up, forbidden, Until the sun shines above, Until something shines for you, Anything's enough. Angels sing of the morning, And they tell you it's fine: Open your he

Ballad of Watters Who is it that inspired your life? Cold, dark and wretched, Yet filled with such light? Monstrous, evil hands That tainted and tore, Curdled your hems And un-bridled your core – Held your nightmare feral, Ate away at your dreams Until they grew deformed. The soul's stuck in its hollow, As the sky has grown dark And it's scared and it thrashes And it reaches for love But the world is the enemy, And the enemy's too much. So stay locked up, forbidden, Until the sun shines above, Until something shines for you, Anything's enough. Angels sing of the morning, And they tell you it's fine: Open your he

Go ahead and hate God if you want: he's a big guy, he can take it.

i would roll up the sunset and unfurl it backward, causing midnight to settle on the sky like a picnic blanket. i'd string together stars and drape a glimmering necklace over your delicate humming-bird collarbone. with things said and unsaid, our voices would weave endless possibilities into the folds of our imaginations, sparking the birth of worlds. our fading memories would engulf these surreal sunlight-stained planets like oceans swallowing mythical utopias with their vast, lapping waves. as our minds clicked like clocks and our mouths let loose the hurricanes that built up within us over the day, i'd fill the empty spaces between your f

Dolphin Scouts We go to the beach,      For lack of something to do,        Out of a sense of comfort         Something we're used to.   There's usually a pause,         But I never decline -    Off we go with our secrets,       Doubts clouding the mind. And it doesn't take long,         Sun-beamed and heat-stroked,    For the dolphins to steal our souls away,     

You probably have heard of me: the cops were after me because I'm a vigilante, the papers were after me because I'm a great story: I'm Gunslinger. And now they've got me. # The judge called a recess, court to resume tomorrow; all rose as the judge departed, then the bailiff came and chained Gunslinger up for the ride back to the jail; an indifferent fellow, he made sure the shackles were tight without being uncomfortable. As they departed the courthouse, the huge crowd gathered there raised up a storm; it never ceased to freak Gunslinger out, how so many people could be screaming at him, for him, and for his blood; they pressed against

In a dirty little side street, a body lay in a pool of blood. Detective John Glaven of the Chicago Police Department took a moment to look down at the victim of what looked like a robbery gone bad. "What's it look like, Mary?" He asked the M.E. Crouched beside the body. "Two to the chest; one in the pump, the other in lung. One in the head." The young technician answered. She glanced up at the middle-aged detective. "Looks like your guy panicked, and just sprayed "Willow  Marrienne, you know it's not the job of M.E.s to make spurrious speculations in the absence of hard evidence." He admonished her jovially. "That's my job." A man quietly