If in life you can't be free,
Find a way and you'll find me,

I hate not being able to finish poems ><

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Prologue

The woman clutched at her faintly-rounded belly, her eyes wide and tearful at the news the oracle had imparted. Twins. Her mind staggered under the weight of the knowledge that she now was responsible for three lives, instead of the two previously assumed.
“Wait!” The woman hissed as if she were chastising a child eyeing the desert table. Sighing, she squared her shoulders as if some great burden had just been imparted on her. She looked from one wide-eyed parent to the other and grumbled something under her breath. The oracle avoided the eyes of the two elves in front of her, unable to bear their twin looks of adoring intensity. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, muttering at Cassia, the resident Goddess of Foresight. The next time you impart such bad news on me to pass to such good folk, mistress, she thought, glaring at the starry night-time sky, I swear I will forsake my gift altogether and you can get someone else to do your dirty work!
The woman wasn’t quite sure, but she thought she heard the distant rumble of a full-throated and utterly amused laughter. She squared her shoulders again and looked the beaming father straight in the eye, “Enjoy them, sir, for they will be your first and your last.”
Confusion erupted across his face and he cocked his head at her, as if trying to discern a secret meaning in the words. The oracle gave a long-suffering sigh and elaborated, “These twin girls, your daughters, will be your only children.”
She turned away at his crestfallen look and continued, “More importantly, the second twin to come should not be allowed to pass the age of innocence.”
The mother wrapped her arms more tightly around her belly and asked, outraged, “Why ever not?!”
“The child is one of god Kao’s lovers.” She replied solemnly, invoking a look of horror on the woman’s face. Her husband looked to his wife, curious and needing an explanation, but she found herself speechless. The oracle sighed and continued, “She bring nothing but pain and destruction should her mind ever pass through the mists of unawareness and into the land of self-knowledge.”
“Not a child of ours,” The man declared, his voice hard. He glared at the oracle and announced to her, “Our daughters will be of love, not destruction!”
“Suit yourself,” The oracle said lightly, more than familiar with the reaction. She turned to the woman who was still staring at her, horrified. She sighed sadly and told her, “You know of what I speak. I can see it in your eyes. Destroy her thoroughly, if you will. For she will live only to cause your daughters pain and she will do it in this life and the next.”
The woman nodded in an automatic, numbed sort of way. She gave an isolated, shuddering gasp and sank to the floor, grasping at her stomach. Her husband took a step towards, intending to comfort her and she held up one stiff, trembling hand. Her gaze rose to the oracle’s and she asked, “You said you speak of the second born?”
At the oracle’s nod, the woman dared one more hesitant question, “And . . . The first born?”
The oracle gave another sad smile, “She will hold the joy of your life.”
The woman shuddered and sat up, pondering the dream for only a moment before the overwhelming scent of smoke took over her sense of smell. She coughed as the smoke caught in her throat and looked around the room, looking for its source. She coughed again and shook her husband, wanting nothing more than to dash out the door before it was to late. He groaned in his sleep and rolled over. The woman groaned in reply, utterly panicked by the thick layer of darkness that had covered the ceiling. She shook the man more violently before shouting, “Sadron!”
The man snapped awake and looked to his wife, his eyes still clouded with sleep. He frowned slightly at his coughing wife and asked, “Naerwen?”
She covered her mouth with the crook of her elbow and pointed upwards at the accumulating smoke. She saw the panic leap into his eyes as he recognized the dark cloud hovering in the air above them. They both headed straight for the door at their left, both thinking of nothing but escape. Halfway to the nearest exit, they booth stopped, shocked by the intensity of the heat coming from what had been their kitchen. Naerwen was beginning to wheeze from the smoke and they both ran for the backdoor, hoping that it wasn’t blocked. Again they were stopped by heat coming from the back bedroom they had intended as the nursery and looked around. Naerwen, thinking quickly, grabbed Sadron’s hand and headed for the nearest window. Sadron grabbed the nearest object he could find and, without thinking, smashed it into the glass. He picked up his wife and, mindful of the jagged edges, carried her out the window and to the safety of the nearest tree line. With great reluctance he set his wife on her feet and instantly regretted the action when she swayed slightly. He leapt forward, catching her limp body and watched the only place he had ever considered home burn to the ground at his feet.
Sometime later Naerwen awoke, shuddering and still wheezing. Looking around what seemed to be a cave of sorts, she coughed, wondering if Sadron was alive. She sighed and stood, trying to gain control of her legs, which felt about as stable as mud. After a few moments she wandered to the mouth of the cave, grimacing at the searing pain in her head and in her lungs whenever she took another breath. As she reached the opening she saw Sadron sitting, his form hunched over. She closed her eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Sadron?”
He turned to look at her, his eyes dulled slightly with horror of the day. She bit her lip and he said, his voice completely emotionless, “It seems I have a promise I made to you years ago to keep.”
Naerwen sighed and dropped to her knees next to him, nodding, “Euserdon.”

The Consequence of Bliss

Naerwen

 I am terrified. Love and motherhood should be such a happy thing, but the nearer I get to my birthing time, the more I dread it. The dream has continued to occur regularly since the night we were nearly burned alive in our home on the edge on the South Star Woods. I am nearly ready, I have mere weeks until I see the supposed “daughters” of my dream and while most expectant mothers would be happy, I want nothing more than to have one healthy, normal child. I do not wish to be the mother of the prophecy my people have passed down to each other for generations. I might be bearing the possible salvation of our world, but I also bear what might be its destruction. Will it fall on my shoulders to kill this horrible monster that I can feel twisting in my belly, ready to come out and spread terror and death over the world? I don’t think I am strong enough to kill my own daughter, even if it’s for the good of all and most importantly, the good of my other child.
 Sometimes . . . I wish that I might miscarry, that one might die in the womb. Am I wrong to wish this? I do not wish top see my daughters wrench and tear at each other. One will do it for the joy of it, the other for the protection of all she holds dear. Who could stop them from destroying each other? Certainly it won’t, it can’t, be me . . . I have no knowledge of such matters. Will this daughter of mine seek destruction because it is prophesized or because of my treatment of her? Is she really destined to bring about death and destruction or will it turn out that way because I am afraid of her? Is this responsibility mine? I don’t want it!

Sadron

 The man paced anxiously, up and down, back and forth. He couldn’t quite seem to help it. It was as if some demon had taken possession of his body and refused to let him be still. His face was stonily blank. It revealed nothing of his inner confusion and turmoil.
 “Sadron?” The man jumped at the worriedly inquiring voice.
 “Illiana.” Sadron breathed, giving the fair skinned beauty in front of him a look of crushing despair. She held out her had to him. He stared at it for a moment, then took it hesitantly. Her warm palm seemed to burn his deathly cold one, but he did not let go. He searched the eyes of his wife’s best friend and asked, “Did she tell you why?”
 Illiana squeezed his hand but shrugged and looked away, “I don’t know, Sadron. She told me once that she was terrified of having twins. She said she had dreamt that she would. It confused me. I thought you both wanted many children.”
Illiana squeezed his hand but shrugged and looked away, “I don’t know, Sadron. She told me once that she was absolutely terrified of having twins. She said she had dreamt that she would. It confused me. I thought you both wanted many children.”
 Sadron stared at her, frowning. Even though his face appeared more puzzled than anything, Illiana could see the hurt shine through his eyes so intensely, it hurt her, just looking at him. His stony mask crumpled and his shook his head as if trying to clear out a mist that enveloped his weary mind. He raised his eyes to her and replied, “We do. Illiana . . . Why, no, how could she say such a thing?”
 Illiana shrugged, feeling helpless, “I know there’s a prophecy of her people that speaks of twins and an eclipse of some sort, but as far as I know . . . It promises the salvation of our world. She should be happy.”
 Sadron’s frown deepened and he sighed, “I just don’t understand. She’s been so different lately, terrified, and she jumps and pales at the slightest noise. I had expected some caution from her, since the incident in South Star, but, lately . . . It’s vas if her very will to live is slipping from her grasp. She looks so . . . gaunt.”
 Illiana nodded, “OI haven’t know her, but for the time she’s been her and still . . . This does not seem her way. Her soul is being smothered by fear.”
 He gave a shuddering sigh and turned from Illiana. She frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder hesitantly, “Sadron, there’s a section for the ones that love those that have ended up here. Go there. Let the Dreammakers help you to get some rest.”
 Sadron tensed ever so slightly at hearing this, shrugged her off and shook his head. She grabbed his wrist and pulled. He spun to face her. She glared at him and said, “Don’t you forget that I’m a Dreammaker too, Sadron. I will lull you to sleep right here and get someone to cart you off the south wing later, if I’m forced.
 He frowned, “But you’re a Dreamwalker, not a sandman.”
 She sighed and shrugged, “I’m both. It’s very rare, but there are those that can do both.”
 He gaped at her and she sighed again, “Don’t make me get Tholarian, Sadron. I’ll come wake you when she’s well enough to see you.”
 “But-“
 “No, Sadron. Go rest. You’ll be no help to her if you speak harshly from lack of sleep.” Illiana said sternly.

By [The real life Bella Swan], a section of the story of Nieriel, the wife of Faelan in "The Chronicles of Faelan" enjoy

I love this, its funny :P

pipe pot tequila shot
jesus loves us stoned or not
sex drugs rock and roll
speed weed birth control
lifes a bitch then you die
fuck the world lets get high
we are stoners we have class
mess with us we'll kick your ass
so to all you preps who think your cool
go to hell cause stoners RULE!Stoners live and stoners die
In the end we all get high
If at first you don't succeed
Fuck it all and smoke some weed

You're the one I want, you're the one I love,
Every time I close my eyes its you I'm dreaming of.
You're everything I need, you make me all I want to be,
Even when I felt detained it was you that set me free.
You give me wings to fly when I'm chained, lift my spirit when I feel drained, you take away the broken heart, the anger, pain and shame.

"...In dreams we are what we want to be, and have the abillity to do and say what we wish without ceing bound to the possibillities of man kind, in our dreams we shoape our future, and live a new life, it gives us pause, and lets us see that things aren't always as bad as one forsees.
"Don't hate the life you live when you're awake, for it doesn';t hate you, learn to live out each day knowing that when you sleep a whole new world will be laid out before your feet and you are free to fly, walk, run swim, frolick, dance and drift."

I did this for melissa, Love you baby.
I need…
I need to feel you by my side,
To feel your delicate touch upon my skin,
I need to hold you in my arms,
And feel the warmth within,
I need to know you love me,
With all your heart and soul,
I need to know you need me,
Because without I’m not whole…

Open wounds…
You bleed to know you’re still alive,
Although you’d rather die,
You scream to find you can’t be heard,
And people pass on by,
You roam an empty street at night,
Your mind drowned in a sea of thought,
For your salvation you fight,
For this is the pain he has wrought…(?)

Tired of the lies…
Don’t say you love me,
I know it isn’t true,
There is more to loving someone,
Than saying “I love you”,
Please stop the talking,
Your words are only lies,
Please stop the torment,
You’ll only make me cry,
Save me from the madness,
Spare me your words,
For now is the time,
The silence must be heard,
I know you never loved me,
I could see it in your eyes,
Now you will have to learn,
That it’s you that I despise,
I’m tired of the lying,
Tired of the tears,
Tired of the yelling,
Your voice still echoes in my ears,
I hate the way you make me feel,
You make me sick,
Every time I stood my ground,
You made me feel like shit,
I hope you feel the pain I feel,
For it cuts like a serrated knife,
I hope you did what I did,
And lay awake and cry,
There may be a time,
Where again we might be friends,
But this is all I have to say,
“Fuck you Jamie, this is the end…”

Just a trial of a blurb to a story I wanna write
So, you want to hear a story, the story of my life, I will tell you such a story, a tale like none before, about elves, dragons, fairies and mythical beasts.
Where the living fought to save themselves from an army of unmatchable power, the seven ages that passed before the troubles ended. The re-shaping of man kind. I'll tell you a tale of the last elf....

It has been seven hundred thousand years since the end of war between the living and the dead, and a familiar character known as Faelan Arim'Yanath still walks the earth. Life has taken a strange turn, swords and sheilds are no longer used by men, nowadays it is guns, and bullit-proof armor that men use, and now, it is not just men who join the army. It is now men, women, and some teenagers as well.
As technology has upgraded severely since the sword and shield, Faelan has come to understand the way of life these humans live.
Life begins to change and I knew plague spreads across the land, killing all, like it did before, and bringing the victims of this disease back to life.
The dead gods of old are re-awakened, and have spoken to Faelan. He see's this plague, and the memories of his past are awakened before him.

Feelings
Silent and empty,
Cold, dark and still,
Burning with envy,
"Oh what a thrill",
Tired and lonely,
Alone in the cold,
Hearing the lies,
The ones that she told,
Not worth the effort,
Burdened with sin,
Stupid mistakes,
The knife was thrust in,
Broken heart,
Bound and detained,
Cobble stone floors,
Blood red and stained,
Dreaming of life,
where wishes come true,
Sighing with envy,
"If only you knew"

Ok, I have a story coming together with [The real life Bella Swan], and am going to pout the basic srtory line on here.

Rhianna meets Dianass for the first time at the Black scar rogues guild and duels him, thinking she is a better fighter. Dianass finds her to be beautiful and sort of falls for her. They fight and Rhianna and Dianass Draw, both wearing eachother out before either of them can lose.
later Rhianna meets Dianass son, (without knowing the relation) and teaches him how to fire a bow.
later Dahaerik, (Dianass' son) tells himn about Rhianna teaching him archery.
Dianass thanks her and she starts falling (without realising at first).
She starts having frequent conversations with Dianass, and one day challenges him again to a duel.
In the second duel it is yet another duel, though Dianass suffers broken bones. Rhianna fixes them and takes him up to his bedroom.

Its like the weight of the world on my shoulder,
Yet as light as a feather in the wind,
Floating like a ship on the ocean,
As alive as the flames of the fire,

Take away the madness,
Take away the fear,
Take away these whispers,
That echoe in my ear,
Take me from the darkness,
Take me to the light,
Frighten off the monsters,
That only come at night,
Take away the pain I feel,
Replace the blood I've lost,
Take me from the darkness,
And melt all of the frost,
Kill the sorrow in my mind,
Fill me up with thoughts of truth,
Dream of me when you sleep,
And I'll be thinking of you...

Kiss these lips,
Hold me tight,
Don't let me go,
Until the end of night,
Think of me,
When I'm gone,
Dream of me,
All night long...

Not finished yet, need suggestions to continue this poem...