If I dream... then I may fly away on Angel wings in the dead of night with only the violins of crickets and shudderings of cicadas to aid me... The moon is full and the winds are whispering secrets left un-revealed for a thousand years... What secrets are they telling?


This is kind of a poetic story. Basically, it's a pretty new idea. I'm going to start a line and the next person will add on to that. It'll be kind of like fantasy poetry... that flows... so here it goes...


*****


The secrets are old and ancient
Once muttered among the dead
But now are brought to the living
They are the vibrations upon parted lips
The secret kisses that occur in the haystacks of locked barns

Do you hear those secrets?
One girl does
She hears them all but may be a part of none of them
She has been cursed with a black hand
The finger of a demon witch

Tamora her name is
A simple farm girl
With an unbearable ability
She is plagued by the secrets of the little town in which she lives
The secrets of which only she can hear

The baker beats his wife
The shoemaker is sleeping alone
As his wife runs out to the fields with the blacksmith
Whose strong blackened arms have also held his other five mistresses in the past five nights

The butcher has lustful thinkings
The Priest-to-be is in love with a future Nun
A schoolgirl is pregnant
And the midwife is barren

A little town in the middle of nowhere
A young girl who cannot rid herself of murmurs
A billion secrets that do not go away
Is there no way to escape from the murmurings?

Perhaps
There is whisper of a secret well which is many miles away
Hidden within a deep forest
Where many perils lie
there are those who wait for her, also hearing,
Calling out to her, brooding patiently,
silently.
watching
waiting for her journey to begin
knowing it will not be long
they call to her with their ancient song.
A song known only to them
A song that must be handed down,
That must be learned anew to endure
The bitter winter of disbelief.

So it was that on one fine day
The young girl started out from her home
Following the shadows of whispers that haunted her mind
She packed a little bag of food and money
And set out from the town to see
What could be learned about her most accursed gift

'Twas an early morn, most crisp and clear
On each twig and blade of grass,
some dust,
silver with frost a-glimmering, was sprinkled.

She awoke, from her nest willow-woven
at the edge of stream,
tasting the air, smiling,
while here in the wild solitude
was no secrets, no hidden truths
for her to know or hear.

For once,
the first time in her life, perhaps,
Tamora knew silence.
She could almost hear the life
of the earth beneath her, and the song in the wind

It was beautiful,
she could hear and feel the nature
calling her
whispering softly in her ear:
"My beloved daughter
welcome home."

This is the place where elves collect people's dreams to make the world beautiful.

there is a god who speaks of how were allready on heavens gates and weve ben damned for eterity
there is a baby crying because his mom said i cant have a child
theres an old man thinking of the things he didnt do because he said ive got tomorrow
and im standing as the ashes fall like buildings crushing the couple who have just found a way from the pain
death is not an option thats when i wake up
Suicide is the answer to happiness