My path will weaveThe way you sayThere is no doubtYou’ll create the way
Agony’s PlotA zephyr skimmedacross my creamy skingently kissingwhere the sun had been….
Drawing up her spear, Ellemist lunged towards the mighty leviathan.
Your American fairytales end that way. Real fairytales end in blood or tears.
Best friend is like a pen and we’re the paper. We’ll not complete without their ink
You are ugly now, on the inside, where it matters most…you are beastly.
And they lived ever after, whether they were happy about it or not.