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Literature Text
I want to lick the blood off the blade, and let it drip down my tounge.
I want to see the pools of it, and drown in its taste, as I drink from it, laughing in contempt.
I want to see the sun's last rise, as my eyes turn blind to what was alive, when that was what I was.
I want to see the pools of it, and drown in its taste, as I drink from it, laughing in contempt.
I want to see the sun's last rise, as my eyes turn blind to what was alive, when that was what I was.
Under the Mountain
Underdark metaphor and connections, which sort of goes over to a WordPress blog.
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Comments3
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yeeeeeees, blood is goooooood. And no, Landon, I don't want your critique.