

The QuestionWhat is everywhere, in every time, in every place, in few hearts, in all minds, it is least found in the place it originates, few know its true form, it has no shape, it has no smell, it has no texture but it has a feeling, and lastly it has no taste, What is It?The Question


The WatcherIn the dark he watches. All the fires of hell in his eyes. He watches me. Over my bed he stalks. Mumbling nonsense for none to hear. Why is he here? Is he here? Was he here? My mind says no, but my heart says otherwise.The Watcher


The Shadows over take youThe Shadows are creeping closer. There is a figure at the top of the stairs. He is not in focus.The Shadows over take you
No matter how much you try and see him you can't. Your head hurts. You feel light. Almost completely without weight. The Shadows are creeping closer. A lock of your black hair drifts in front of your eyes. You want to move it but you cant. You can see boxes around you. The Shadows are creeping closer You can see the metal support beam of the basement. You feel lighter still. The Shadows are creeping closer You are aware of the weight of your Horn-Rimmed Glas
| Hi, I'm jordan. I'm 17 years old, and a guitar feind. I have the greatest girlfriend in the world, her name is Em Perry. She is basically my world. The poem Summer's day was written about the first time i met her. But anyways... yeah love me hate whatever. |
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Here's to the tug of war, With my vocal chords.
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Here's to the tug of war, With my vocal chords.
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Here's to the tug of war, With my vocal chords.
We are gunna get marrid.
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Here's to the tug of war, With my vocal chords.
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Here's to the tug of war, With my vocal chords.
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