

Spring RainA rain falls, tears of heaven. A calm and peace-Spring Rain
ful rain, washing away and yet covering, con-
cealing. Droplets of forgetfullness, leaving only
Joy behind. Most will never see this, only a pain
In it's passing through. Biased, remembering cool,
Summer days our fates sealed as our bodies - indoors.
But the farmer remembers waht we have forgot-
en, a day left to sit and watch, giving us life.
Drowned in fear, fear of that which we cannot see, drops
A thick, choking wall, blinding with


The Blonde Stranger The midday sun beat down on a small farming village set on gentle hills. The fields, however, were empty. Not a man, woman or child worked them now. They were all gathered before a well kept house in the village center. The house was that of their beloved mayor. Inside, he lay dying. All had gathered to pray for him and gather in their collective grief. He had been mayor for longer then many could remember and none would have had it otherwise.The Blonde Stranger
The mayor and his wife had built this village with their own hands fr


An Expression and Nothing Else For some days now I have tried to write this, a description of my love for you. Endlessly have I tackled with how to perfectly express my love and devotion for naught. I have come to this conclusion that it is not possible, that the language of man simply does not have the words within it. Language is the application of logic to thought and feeling; to trap desire in the restraints of mutual understanding. There are not the descriptors to express my love for you. Those that created all the words I would use could not possibly understand what I feel well enouAn Expression and Nothing Else


I, Wasp I walked upon the great roads of our vast empire, surveying the surrounding area. Food and water were both plentiful here and the Queen's city flourished. She chose wisely when she built here, we wanted for nothing. This was our Eden. Forgotten were the pains of other lands. Lost were the enemies of our great Queen. At least, that is what we thought. Sometimes, the forgotten pain is the one that strikes the hardest. That which took months to build was laid to ruin in a single afternoon. Widows still curse theI, Wasp
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