Writing Pyromaniak1 beep

[Guest pyromaniak1]

[U]right winged republicans[/U]
Drowsy and Horny
spot on dustmites
hushed fuzzy words
guilty concious
stop
[U]
The Backbone of a Soul[/U]
First, the sight of it, the sight of her, the equalizer of dreams and nightmares. No right from wrong, only a feeling, a feeling of pressure against a stained glass window. Soon to shatter and fall as rain, they seep deeply into the soot carpet, each glass shard cornered by the soots creator.
Second, focus is off, off of her, eyes traveling into the distance, believing to see glowing embers. Red hot embers that are being crushed on by the dark night sky. Deeper breaths, nostrils helping to fuel an impatient heart with oxygen.
Third, focus to her tries to return, but she is gone, eyesight scatters in every direction when slowly realization hits. In the distance the thoughtless embers are growing. Prodding the air with smoke, a fire has begun to rise from her, by her shouting and screaming at the fire.
Fourth, the sight of them, combined make love weaker and tragedy stronger, the love of her and the love of fire, the tragedy of her and the tragedy of fire. But combined you lose both of what was once loved and feared.