halfbright1
the vines twirl and crawl upward on the wall. in and out of the spaces, searching for an area to fill. taking over the old rocky wall that no one uses, now left behind.
the warm butter sliding off the freshly toasted bagel. mmm, tasty. your mouth watering as its squishyness is just so good your swallowing it whole.
i need to do it. it needs to be fabricated, but i can't grasp onto it quick enough. if i don't find out soon, it will kill me...i can't stand it any longer.
the plague of what seems to be small, keeps growing. growing thick, black, heavy; taking the air out of my chest. i can't see a thing through the muck in the sky, but all i know is i'm running. running to get out.
the plague is wrestling with my mind and i can't handle it.
the wheat feilds are silent. the long weeds surging through the ground, trying to attack the ground, growing this way and that. the crunch of the wheat as it pops in your mouth..
the sound it makes. the destruction, the sights, the taste. i can't breathe, the dust is clogging up my lungs, getting in my eyes. it is cold, but warm, as i get sucked into the giant void.
i am destined to create. create a new world. create different ideas that none other could come up with. i am destined to write, destined to read, destined to succeed. Destined, because that, is destiny. destiny is a strange thing. trying to follow something, but not even knowing what could come out of it, but you still trudge on. the feeling of succeeding is something very special. even if its the simplest things.
i am destined to create. create a new world. create different ideas that none other could come up with. i am destined to write, destined to read, destined to succeed. Destined, because that, is destiny.
i hear the soft sound of breathing. So soft, that if i move i will wake the creature. So soundly that all i can hear is my own heartbeat in my eyes, just listening to the faint song in the backgrounds.
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