When we first met, you were a broken down soul. You're still a broken down soul, but you're mine. I wish to be your escape from the grief you hold on to. If you love me, you'll let go of your evil ways. See as they are, not what they are, love.
Daddy fucked a human and left her to be famous. Senator to POTUS while she was raising monsters. Thrown away in solitude, the children only had themselves and their mother. Oh, how modern. Red head, gangly thing. Not what I expected. Black robe, sharp fangs, he was the opposite. Sure love to wrap my hand around his throat and pull out the stake and hear his scream echo.
The name's Gerald Harker, please call me GG. I come from the wastelands of Dante, Missouri, Where the hicks are enlightened with the power of Wicca and the satyr jocks are horny for nymphs. Two bitch sisters and a brother named Scott, just like me he was a little bit off. Before leaving to join the marines, he told me to do one thing: Kill all vampires. Kill all vampires, stick em up to hell. Pull out their teeth and chop off their heads. Do what you can and whatever you do, if you get bitten, there's no help for you.
Who’s that on the mic? Ooh! It’s Mike the Owl! And if you ask what’s he like – I’d say with a growl that fowl is foul!
He doesn’t speak much but on the microphone his beak can spit a sick beat, Many times he has shown his rhythm and rhymes are a hoot and an absolute treat, I’m talon you he’s like a beast released in the wild the way he feasts on emcees who’ve tried, Because with one fell swoop he’ll whoop some ass then you too will be left wide eyed.
Mike the owl will look at you with a scowl and straight up ask if you want to...
a hot summer lover with no bikini an unpredictable bird wild as can be a dangerous beauty, wait till you see Irresistible sweetness, she’s a queen bee
the hive of Eden, her garden of heaven queen honey bee, her lucky number’s eleven playing with her troopers, buzzing workers, none slackers regally seated, royally heated, milking honey with them jolly wankers!
She can be mean, as the demon from hell, When in heaven, she loves ringing the alarm bell trolling saints that loves to paint, what the heck, it’s only wax as just to...
Within the hour both Hul and I were up and tidying our camp for further hunt. Neither could the other look upon for neither could believe our wild acts. We felt ashamed of our adultery, and also for the knot we each had put amidst the simple thread, our history. At last the silence broke at Hul’s behest:
I heard a pack of wolves up north last night.
First I, then Hul felt an internal flinch at merest mention of the night before. Hul, hiding well his cringe, continued on: ...
A crippled ruthless fairy Pt.1 (Begin Fairy Tale Block)
A crippled fairy exalted in torment, banished from the lands. A crooked walk, with broken wings, and crippled hands. Jet black eyes like the blackholes in stories of space. Wrinkles and cobwebs adorned their tattered face.
Long creepy brown nails almost match their height. A slow crippling crawl on the forest ground in the night. Little strands of hair on his head look like ancient string. On this very occasion a set of rusty blades he would bring.