The Gone Day And that is it the day is over the hours gone, ahve now wound together and created the past, a day that seemed to last forever, yet go so fast. Be so important, yet so short in time, in the life we will cast. Why did that day have to happen...

Written on a shift at work, in my little waitress notebook, but hush... The Photo's story This ghostly photograph shows of gone people and changed roads. Of the life of a steeple to the dissapation of loads. Black spectres roam the wide-berthed streets,...

The Diaries Words, that I wrote a long time ago, before you and I, before anything was through. If only I could look down and read words I wrote in the future, and see what is to come. Because right now I am so uncertain to as what should be said, or...

Plundering, plundering, hooves pounding. Screaming, screaming, my skin is screaming, cold, stinging, air biting. Hooves pounding. Safety, sancturary, desolate land, reaching, low branch, knocked to the ground, can't stand, can't stand. The horse is coming,...