| Inside, the cold dark castle stones, set inside the Hidden realm. A lone towering Darkness befalls the land of. Inverted bans. Read not the warning, but the wood its painted on. The walls inside this cold dark place are covered within writings. Withering is the Flower, the ones with spiritual honey are left to Wither, like the Flower deprived of Water, so hush, and listen to the rain, wait for the weather to change. I'm holding her times, her tits, the pressed tissue in my fist, as she sinks those venomious fangs into my neck, as my throat is clogged with the words I wish were spoken I choke this dellima infront of me. Leaking from my neck, as she leaches off of my life.. If I weren't so sure this was what I missed, I surely would have walked away, turned and looked for the way, waited, everyday. Just to ensure, the cure, to find that which is pure, and control it until it. Obeys every waking, every resounding order I can give. To break its will, to make it a Meal, to make her innocence falter before my very eyes, to see her livly being filled with fear as the tears settle in, and the whimpering moans soak my ears. And if what I wanted wasn't here, I would have most certaintly Turned away. |
