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-Gone- Sometimes I hear them -Gone-
Sometimes I hear them talk
Sometimes I continue to walk
Sometimes I make it clear what I hope won't be my greatest fear
As time goes on I think that life won't be the same
I turn around and see there's nothing left for me to gain
I made a vow to never again speak your name
But every time I cry, it's as if you've become the rain
Sometimes I hate myself
Sometimes I hate you too
Sometimes I ask myself where to go and what to do
And every time I think about you my heart slowly faints
And every time I bleed I swear I don't feel any pain
Sometimes I wish you were here
That you were near
Sometimes I wish I could dream forever
You and me endlessly dreaming...together
Name: Kruz or "Mutt"(as prefered by the parasite)
Real Name: Xander Solsalin
Date of birth: March 07, 1990
Species: Human(parasitic demon?)
Place of birth: Mexico, La Mora
Zodiacal sign: Pisces
Profession: Kruz: "I actually jump job to job, since I'm just traveling right now."
Cilia: "Just say it! Your a Hobo! HAHAHA!!
Kruz: "shut up."
Personality: Just by looking at him, you can tell he's not one to start a conversation. He's not crazy, but he's not normal. Lets put it this way. If he saw and Elephant with wings playing a banjo and ice cream was coming out of it's ass, he wouldn't react to it.
Hopefully that explains it. Who the hell is prepared for something like that and not react to it? Kruz: "What do you wan't me to do!? Lick the ice cream off it's ass!? Cilia: " *giggle*. Awww..c'mon mutt...chocolate is your favorite! hehehe."
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More