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Hatred. Raw, burning, hatred. People who felt this knew how hard it was to take it, without it rubbing off on them. It creates a pure longing for the shelter of darkness. For people who feel the hatred of family members, despite they're saying that they loved them. It felt like a betrayal. It makes people do things most people would find horrible. But its just people trying to find an escape.
She knew more then most that people who felt hatred just want to rebel and do want they wanted. All she wanted to do was go to parties with friends and leave her house to do as she wished. But she was fifteen and constantly felt the burning hatred of her parents and siblings. She just wanted to cry herself to sleep and never wake up.
She often cut her arms to keep herself from losing her mind. I know what your thinking, poor girl, she should listen to her parent's, what's she thinking, shes disgusting yadda yadda. I know. But hatred can warp a person.
Twilight stood in the tree that hung over her camp. Her silver toed paws itched to run down and slaughter the cat she called leader.
The Black cat narrowed her eyes. She could do it to. She was Deputy, no cat would believe a deaf medicene cat. The cat she had looked up to and called Leader for so long had LIED. The old tabby that was slowly dieing in his den had lied to her all her life. She had always beieved she was Clan born, a loyal she-cat. A proud warrior of Thunderclan. But NO, she was the kit of a rogue. A rogue that still lived and whose son would be crueler than any cat in the twoleg place.
TwilightShade. Thaat was the black and silver toed she-cats warrior name. Her mother had named her Twilight. And her Leader TwoStar had taken pity on the starving rogue in the middle of Leaf-Fall, he took a kit that hadn't even opened it's eyes and brought it to another. The cat she had claimed was her mother for so long was SpottedWing. She was a beautiful white cat with grey spots dottin
TrustIt is said that the most heavenly wind. It that, which blows between.
A horses ears. I believe it. Any girl who has ridden a horse.
Will believe it. In the mornings. I wake up to the smell of horses.
Still in my nostrils from the dreams. And I can't help but smile.
When you've been around horses. Almost all you're life.
You can't help but think that horses have become apart of you.
As if it was some vital part of you're body. Like you're lungs.
Or you're heart. If you take horses away. You basicilly die.
When you're around horses. You feel as if nothing can stop you.
When you're riding through a jumping course. Or flying.
Through the tree's of a cross country course.
Or exicuting the correct movements of dressage.
You feel the bond with the horse beneath you. Strengthen.
The horse understands what you ask. And does so. Without question.
When you're heading to a competetion. And you're laughing and.
Sharing stories with you're friends. While riding with the horses.
The horses understand
Time Slows"Steady. Whatch for the jump....
Now!" Feeling the powerful animal under you.
Surge with strength as it makes the jump.
The feeling of time slowing as the critical
Moment passes over. No falts.
Turn leap. Four falts.
"That's okay. Come on we can make it"
Soothing the horse under you as it nickers
in frustration. Turn speed up.
"No!" Warning the black being as it heads towards
The wrong jump. It swerves akwardly. But you make the right jump.
The surge of pride as you and you're horse. Leap over the final fence.
Time slows again. Hoping beyond hope. That there won't be any falts.
You clear it. Gently slowing the cantering horse down.
Raising the hand holding the crop up high in victory. As the judge
Announces the time. Hearing you're team mates cheer as the horse rears up.
Patting the gentle giant with pride as you head to the stables.
Brushing the horse down with pride until his coat gleams in the dim light.
Taking pictures with you're mom and friends to remeber the great times.
The thrill of the leap
ask it too.
you had made.
It's the trust.
That you Share.
When it seems
The two of
you make it
Even though it seems that horses don't understand.
It's more then just the competition
The Way of Life intro. Book style!
A little kit. Black and tiny with a sandy kit and a golden kit on either side of her. And a caring silver mother curled around them, glowing with pride, Her ears pricked as a dark tabby stepped into the nursery from the yowls and claws outside, with a gleam in his eye. the silver mother lept forward launching at the tabby. Her kits tirred and the black one whispered something urgently into the others ears. They nodded and stared horrified as they watched they're mother get torn apart. Suddenly the black kit turned into an older cat with strong muscles and striped markings. Her face was bored and she snapped open her cold forebodeing eyes. A line split her face in two. One half her striped self. The other the same. But had a horrified and sad expression blood staining her coat.
A black she-cat rushed into the clearing and stood smiling over the body of a dead white cat. The striped cat smirked and nodded as she joined the ranks. The she-cat stood on a hill that was made of stone starein
The clock ticks as 2:30 AM comes around
and the rest I desire cannot be found.
I cannot seem to fall asleep
and therefore my dreams I cannot keep.
Oh how I long to get some rest
so I can go to school and pass any test.
I need to stay awake in my class
as I wait for the hour to pass.
I wish I could just lay down for a while
but naps just aren't my style.
I don't know why but I just cannot
sleep during the day, so my rest is shot.
I've become sleepless
in this room that is a mess.
I just want to close my eyes
and wait as the night dies.
But no, my brain refuses to turn off
so at it I will scoff.
I'll stay awake all night
because sleep's call won't fight.
Random PoemFootprints that we make
Upon the sand
On dry land
Memories that you will
Make with me
Once tomorrow comes
Is all they will be
Take a moment now,
Stop and look
At all the baby steps
Memories here and
They may fade or
They may hide
Or they may be
Steps so quiet
Steps so soft
All that time
I thought “aloft”
“Not a step has been taken”
My faith in us,
I feared, was shaken
But we moved on,
Yes I can tell
We kept walking
Through that spell
The journey long
That we may stand together,
And now I look
Back and say
“I’m so very glad
I met you that day.”
I've Moved OnI've Moved On
I think I've moved on
from the man I once loved
and now I can live my life
for God above.
No longer do I dwell
on the memories of the past
for they are no longer.
No, they cannot last.
I feel free
to go and live my life
as I battle any
and all strife.
So from this day forward
I will say out loud
that I've got God,
and I'm single and proud.
ChainedI sit in my little bubble up high
Where it is safe for me to play and laugh,
Where I will not be mocked if I cry,
My little hut of peace,
From where I long to go to the East,
Yet my dreams are dying, deceased.
In their attempt to force my endeavors to cease.
Bang, from my bubble I fall
My world around me crumbling
Into life's vicious brawl
An angel flies low to grab me
Cold and dark is my landing
In life's bleak darkness I am stumbling
How am I still standing?
For her, even in the dark, an angel's face I see.
As I drag myself up and forward,
Along a dim and muddy path,
Their ideals bring me to a place
Where the darkness is the light
I must be silent to avoid their wrath
And every step is a struggle, a fight
A perfect world for them, is mine in disorder
Heavy are the problems of their life,
Thrown upon me as chains
I now carry their expectations,
As I bare my teeth through the pain
They deny me a visit from an angel
One day maybe a wife
But no they will curse me with vile accusations
Alternate UniverseAlternate Universe
Words sent back and forth
as a story is born
in another world of little worth
for when writers are quite worn.
One comment, then another.
Creation of mother and sister,
and of father and brother
with miss and mister.
Characters are created
and plots may twist.
So be careful of what is stated
or the story may be missed.
This is the world of a role player
where one can be a king,
werewolf, or dragon slayer.
It all comes down to one thing.
Can you keep up with this great
world of story writers?
Where there's no hate
and no real fighters.
Pride. It kills. It makes people do things they normally wouldn't. It makes them hard people to understand and know. It makes people stuck up, unbelievable. And most of all. Cold.
She knew that more then most people. She was a very proud girl, fourteen years old and already she was the least trusted member in her nieghborhood. All because she got into to many fights, ws to pridefull, and didn't take criticizm well.
She took hurtful words everyday from her enemies, friends and even her siblings. She just felt broken, but her pride wouldn't let her take anything, from anyone without returning the favor.
She sighed and turned from the magnificent view of the Colorado mountains. She walked back towards her house through the forest. She hurt. Mentally, she felt drained. Like coldness, hurt and rage was all that was left within her. She couldn't take much more. She wished her pride would release her.
So very much...
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