The Soda Of Death

No one knew what it was
But the name was intriguing
No one understand what it meant
They didn't know that if you drank it
You would die
So one person drank it and died
But no one knew it was the soda
So more people drank it
They all died too
Finally some guy was like
"Dude it must be the soda"
So they dumped it into the ocean
And then killed all the sea life
Realizing their mistake
The people dumped it down the drains instead
But since all drains lead to the ocean
The ocean was still polluted
The End

I Don't

I don't want no trouble

And I don't want no peace

So I'll just be

I don't want no hatred

And I don't want no love

So I'll just be

I don't want no people

But I don't want to be alone

So I'll just be

I don't want no money

But I hate when I got none

So I'll just be

I don't want religion

But I do believe in God

So I'll just be

I don't want no sins

But I know I've got a Savior

So I'll just be saved

First and Last Job

He was only 17.  Young kid.  Stupid.  Thought he was better than everyone else.  He'd been looking for a job since he was 16.  A solid year with no bites.  He was laying in bed one night and wondered what he could do with his life.  He was young, he had his whole life ahead of him.  He could be anything he wanted to be.  But what?  What could he be?

Then it hit him.

He got home from school the next day.  His parents were gone, just as he had planned for.  Breaking into the safe was easy.  He pulled out his dad's revolver and loaded it.  He grabbed some extra rounds just in case.  He wasn't planning on shooting anyone.  It was just for show.  He stuffed it in his bag and grabbed his old ski mask from when he and his parents went on vacation.  He stuffed that in his bag and then got in his car.  He sat there.

"Ok Carl," he said to himself.  "You're going to do this.  You're not gonna screw this one up.  Of course you are, you always screw up.  NO!  Not this time.  This time I'm serious.  Screw good grades, screw getting a job.  This is my life now."

He started the car and drove to the bank.  It was a small bank.  Hardly anyone was inside.  There was only three people working behind the counter and one woman in line.  He walked inside and then ducked behind a wall quickly.  He'd forgotten to put the mask on.  Okay.  Mask on, gun out?  It felt too early to draw the gun.  But why wait?  He pulled it out.

"Everyone down on the ground!"  he shouted like he'd seen in movies.

The woman in line screamed and got down on the floor.  He walked up to the teller and she looked at him.  She was frightened.  The two men behind the counter had their hands up.

"Umm....I want....money....all your money," Carl said.

"Alright, you want it in that bag?" asked the teller.

"Umm...I don't know...don't you have your own bags?"

"I think so..."

"Okay, well then fill the bags with money and give them to me."

"Alright."

The three bank tellers went to work filling bags with cash.  Carl didn't like this.

"Wait, wait , wait.  Stop.  Keep your money.  This isn't for me."

"So...you're not robbing us then?" asked one of the men.

"No...I'm just...bored I guess...I don't want to be a criminal.  I'm just gonna go."

Carl ran outside got in the car and drove home.  He put the gun away in the safe, went to his room and locked the door.  He laid down in bed and began to thin about other career choices.

Being a criminal wasn't on the list.  But a drug dealer, no that he could do.

Inclined

I am sole and honest for you

I have no place to stand

So let me sleep a while longer

Everything I say can't hold you

My words are just no match

So I'll keep waiting for another year

Oh you are so inclined, inclined to realize

And oh, you are so alone

But I am here to whisper in your ear

Every heart I've taken from you

Seems to disappear

So I'll just talk to myself from now on

You're feeling so far and distant from me

I hate to say your name

So now I can pretend I didn't hear

I've told you before

I'll tell you again

This is the last time

Water in my mouth

I have nothing left

This is the last time

Oh you are so inclined, inclined to realize

And oh, you are so alone

But I am here to whisper in your ear

Darkness

I'm quite alone here

And that's OK

I like the quiet as my thoughts decay

I'm quite alone here

That's just alright

I'd rather be by myself than in a fight

I'm quite alone here

In this darkness

I can pray silently I guess

I'm quite alone here

But I'm really not

God is with me, reading my every thought

I'm quite happy here

All I can do is smile

I'm out of breath, after running for miles

Harmony

Sitting in a room full of sadness

Surrounded by people with no gladness

The ache of a heart

The end before the start

Leaves one the wonder

What else lies under?

A hope remains in the shape of a girl

Who was weak but now conquers the world

Alone and friendless she lies

But onward she looks, up towards the skies

With a sword in hand and a battle cry

She screams that the evil is going to die

For all the pain it caused and love it destroyed

For all the hearts torn and lives soiled

Strong she was born and strong she will die

Living with nature in harmony

Haiku for You

Reaching for a log

Fallen from a nearby tree

Lost and in the fog

Gently down her back

My finger traces downward

A heart with a dot

Beaches line the shore

Shells and rocks rolling downhill

Rolling up and up

I can't write haiku

Because all I can think of 
is "oh hai Ku!" too

The Distance

Breaking without destroying

Knowing without seeing

You've fallen without understanding why

Liars and cheats and wronged you before

But not this time

Now you have cause to seek

Now you have reason to feel

Back up against the wall

The one that held you for so long

But not this time

Let go of the wrongs done to you

Forget about the hate you felt

This is not your war anymore

You're about to lose yourself

But not this time

Don't look deep inside

You'll find something you hate

You'll keep on fighting then

You'll try to run the distance

But not this time

Poetry Is Hard

Writing poetry is really hard

This is all I've come up with thus far

I try and try to form simple lines

A start and end and maybe a rhyme 

Two pieces together to make some sense

Make up a story in the past tense

A little jingle to sing along to

Maybe a short bit of haiku

The story of a boy who loves life

But falls into despair and utter strife

A tale of a maiden with hair so fair

But died tripping on it, falling down a stair

An old cowboy who lives on his farm

Away from others, away from harm

Any story I would like to write

But poetry is hard...

Regret

I can't explain these feelings that have come over me

They took me by surprise like a mad dog suddenly set free

Barking and yapping spanning at your heels

Wanting to devour, to rip and tear, and make you his meal

It's an aching sort of feeling, not good, but not exactly bad

It's an itching a burning, knowing I lost what I had

I'll never get it back, I drifted to far away

But there is a longing inside me that's all I can say

She touched my life in many ways

She taught me to love but I didn't know how to stay

I'll admit my heart is full of regret

And when I said I hated her It was not what I meant

If I cold do things differently, right all past wrongs

I would change it in a heartbeat, one so long

Now when I look into her eyes, I see the same regret

I wish I could look into her mind, or to her heart be sent

But in the end I remember we are both God's children

He loves us both, and this is all His will in the end

Black Market Rabbits

 The sirens began sounding at about five in the evening. I was walking through one of the tunnels along the road. When I heard them I ran out to the open and looked down a the beach. Sure enough the large doors were closing, sealing off the sand from the water. The guards on the wall were standing at ready, rifles raised. It was happening again, like it had so many times before.

Maybe I just never got used to it, or I didn't want to. Either way I never felt truly ready for it. It was a massacre. The amount of people that died every time they came to pay us a visit was horrid, and the death toll seemed to rise every time.

It was happening again, and just as before I wasn't ready. I waited. They would come. The wall and doors merely slowed them down. But they would come as they always did. Slaughtering and destroying. The soldiers always did their job valiantly. But it was just never enough. So I waited. Sword drawn, ready for another fight.

An old man approached where I was standing and looked down at the wall too. We watched as people scrambled up the beach away from the wall.

“It always surprises me for some reason,” he said.

“I know what you mean,” I replied.

“Just when I think they've stopped attacking, they come again,” he said plainly.

“I often wondered whether or not they want us to just stay out of the ocean...”

“Why would you wonder that?”

“After every attack we always go back to playing amongst the waves. Surfing and swimming. It is their territory after all. Maybe they would stop attacking if we stopped invading their space.”

“Makes sense...” the old man said as he turned and walked away.

And there was the first one. It came crawling over the wall on all fours like a human looking spider. It was shot immediately by a guard. But a minute after that move were coming...and more...The wall was soon swarming with the creatures and they began making their way over to the other side. They would be running up here any minute. I held my sword at the ready. One minute. Two minutes...three minutes...here we go. They were running up the road towards me. A dozen of them at least were there. I sprang into action. Twisting and twirling my deadly dance until they all lay dead, their green blood glistening on the ground.

And so it continued. The attack lasted a good give hours. When it was over the body count was surprisingly not as high as it usually was. At least, there were more dead creatures that there were humans. I cleaned my blade and went home. Well, instead I went to the coffee shop near my home. I was hoping to meet my friend, Grizzly Dan there. He was biggest toughest grizzly bear in the city. But he was also a very good friend. He looked after as best he could. No doubt he had been fighting down at the beach somewhere too...but he hung out around here a lot...so I sat at the bar.

“Two decaf lattes please,” I said to the girl behind the counter.

She made one and handed it to me.

“Oops, I forgot to make it decaf, let me remake that for you,” she said pulling it back. She blushed slightly. She was new. I hadn't seen her there before. I was about to ask her if she was new, but I already knew the answer, and I didn't want to sound like a jerk.

“No problem,” was all I said with a smile.

“You were fighting down at the wall weren't you?” she asked admiringly.

“Yes, I usually end up doing that,” I said, “you see I spend a lot of time at the beach. I'm a lifeguard.”

“Oh! Very cool! You carry that with you all the time then?” she asked pointing to my sword.

“Yeah usually...I find it safer to have it with me.”

“Oh for sure,” she said handing me two lattes, “there we go, two decaf lattes.”

“Thanks....Mary...” I said reading her name tag.

She smiled, still blushing, and bustled off to do dishes.

“There he is!” came a gruff voice from behind me.

“Dan,” I say getting up, “how are you?

“Good,” he says holding a smoking cigarette between his paws. “One hell of a fight am I right?”

“Meh, I think they're losing their touch to be honest.”

“How many did you kill?”

“Forty-three.”

“Ah good once! I got twenty-four...but I'm not as good as you of course.”

“Ha, thanks Dan.”

Dan lowered his voice.

“Want to go do some black market gambling?”

“Sure why not,” I said with a shrug.

“I found a little place out back, come on,” he said getting up.

I followed Dan out back to the ally. He pulled back the chain link fence which led into a passage. I followed him down it. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. We walked towards it. We entered a kind of chamber. There was nothing in there but a table and some chairs. Next thing I new we were attacked. Dan was knocked out. But he landed right on one of the attackers, crushing him flat. The other attacked came at me. It was a rabbit. He held a knife.

“Welcome oh foolish wanderer. You now must die for invading our sanctuary.”

“But I thought this was a gambling den.”

“It is for those who are worthy of it. You are far from worthy You are a worm, scum of the earth. You are pathetic and evil. I demand your blood. We love blood, and we want your blood.”

The rabbit began cutting himself on the arm in eagerness for blood. He did it so much that he felt faint. He dropped the knife and fell to his knees. Not wanting the rabbit to suffer I picked up its knife and thrust it slowly into its neck.

The Pumpkin Patch

Hold my hand as we walk

The new moon gives us no light

But we see where we're going

We don't need no lanterns

We don't need no map

We ain't headed anywhere specifically

We're just walking

Walking through the pumpkin patch

Hand in hand through the pumpkin patch

A little slower now that we're here

Under the apple tree

The apple tree right in the middle

Middle of the pumpkin patch

Look me in the eye and say it best

You love me and I love you

Kiss me and I'll kiss you

Don't lie to me like the rest

I trust you and only you

Hold me now as we lay

As we lay under the apple tree

The tree in the middle of the pumpkin patch

"Wise Sayings" by Ethan Chione

1.  "If the fish isn't bad eat it."

2.  "You can't have a baby without proper plumbing."

3.  "People will eat anything if they're hungry enough."

4.  "You can't make every rat your pet."

5.  "If you want to be happy then find a rooster."

6.  "Be patient and you shall receive."

7.  "Not all dentists are evil clowns, but they are all secret agents."

8.  "You can't be a star and not shine."

9.  "Every potato has its skins."

10.  "Just because someone is taller than you doesn't mean they're shorter."

The Tree Trunk Task

Eating at hole in small places

A beacon of hope and wane 

Established by soap and swans

The ultimate love for bane

Crashing yourself upon rocks

Like a hopeless beautiful boat

Rotting like a dead tree

Surrounded by a hundred moats

Righting wrongs and spelling out

The only way is to see

Eating a hole in  a small place

The only one to be

Whisper of a Golden

Blow blow sleet and snow

Sunset street and nighttime sleep

Credits done to those of sigh

An honest living forever more

Breaking hearts by numbers unknown

Frost bitten treetops and flowers

Angled back to sea view

Thrust forward for a motion

Backwards crawling beauty changeless

Nothing warrants your arrested attention 

Hating cruelty and malice

Loving the life you've been blessed with

Stomping on the little things

Forgetting past wrongs and hurts

You can say what you want

But moving on is what it is

Monsters lurking beneath the cave

Your bed is your ship in the ocean

Tentacles of a friendly beast

Wrap you up in a soft spoken dream

Glow

The glow of that lights up her face

Is the sunlight shining off the morning dew

The sparkle in her eye

Is the glitter of the nighttime stars

The redness of her cheeks

Is the reddest roses in the garden

Beauty comes naturally to her

Without trying she's something to talk about

Long brown hair and deep brown eyes

She's a beauty strong and stout

Big River

Rain came down in huge torrents.

  Soaking everything and anything it could.

  Like it had a mind of its own it drenched as much as it could, like that's what its sole purpose was.

  On the bright side the infected seemed to dislike the rain.

  They took to wandering around indoors and hiding out under any kind of shelter they could find.

But one indoor area was not crawling with infected.

It was a big house on the big river.

Bright red walls and orange carpet.

A ghastly color if you ask me.

It had about five bedrooms and three bathrooms...all brightly colored as well.

The windows including the big stained glass one were boarded up.

The doors were all nailed shut with furniture piled in front.

Tap tap tap

Went the hammer that was used to nail in the nails.

Inside slept eight people.

Three woman and four men and one child.

The child lay awake listening to the rain.

The rain was swelling the big river.

Still the house stood.  A bright safe haven.

Brightly colored.

Brightly savored like a dish of candy.

Rolled up in a bottle and set to sail in the big river.

I'm crying out for help

I'm crying to you from across the big river on the other side of the bank

But no one can hear me tonight, not now or ever.

The seven lay sleeping and one lays awake

He hears me but he thinks it is an infected

Just as motionless as the rest he lays and listens to the rain

The big river rises

Your Heart Starts To Beat Faster

We were working as usual.  Making coffee, doing our thing. The strip mall was busy and full of people as usual.  It was a rather usual night.

But suddenly there was commotion outside.  People were running and screaming.  Customers began to walk towards the door to see what was going on.  My coworkers and I followed.  We went outside into the parking lot and saw that people were running from the Chinese restaurant across the way.  I could not see why, but then one of my coworkers started shouting, "They're blocking the exits and windows, they're trapping people inside!"

My heart started to beat faster...

What She Wrote

Tear stains scattered across the page

The handwriting shaky at best

Line after line of the same thing

She's worthless not even human

Not worth the tears that would spill

For her, when she was gone away

No she didn't know as she wrote

The pain that she would cause

Or  maybe she didn't care

This life was so unfair and not well

For her, but what she didn't remember

Not for anyone else around her

Everyone, she forgot, has troubles

Trials that plague them at nights

She wasn't a weak person

But the burden felt to much to bear

Like the moon half empty

Her eyes glazed over as she read

What she had written on that paper

That she left on the table for someone to find

What she didn't write was how she was going

That part she left out

What she wrote was enough

And left damage that could not be undone

But it was done

And as her feet swung slightly above the floor

More tears fell onto the paper

As what she wrote was read

When You Think All Is Lost

Welcome to the darkness

Where bleeding is a must

Pain is constant and true

Fear is what you harness

No love is found here

Hatred breeds from everything

Evil is your only friend

Your eyes shed bloody tears

Constantly you are afraid

There is no comfort or peace

Yes welcome to the darkness

Where bodies are laid

But behold a light

Shining forth is the darkness

A hand holding a gleaming sword

Our savior has come to win the fight

miscellaneous

That annoying weird kid with the "Tarantulas are people too!" shirt

He's watching you as you eat your sandwich

To your greatest disturbance he gets up and approaches you

He leans in close and whispers in your ear

"You've got mayonnaise on your shirt"

Now you feel like the weird kid

Now everyone is staring at you and your mayo shirt

You decide to leave your half eaten sandwich

You begin to partake of thine pickle that layeth upon thine plate

It's good...almost too good to be true

That salty deliciousness that fills your mouth with joy and wonder

But Mr.Weirdo is still watching you

You're starting to feel uncomfortable...very uncomfortable

Now you have to say something

You don't want to be a jerk but you're trying to eat

So you get up and walk over to the weird kid who is sitting on the other side of the room

"Dude, you're creeping me out"  you say flatly

"Dude, fine" he says as he gets up and walks out

But before leaving he turns dramatically and gives you a "You're a butt" look

So you go back to eating, but you aren't hungry now

That last look from the weirdy messed up your appetite

So now you sit and stare at your food

Your half gone sandwich and partially eaten pickle

You wonder what you should take from this incident

And decide to go watch TV instead of think

Everyone watches you as you walk out of the room

Before you leave, you turn dramatically...and blow a kiss

The Breaking Point

The asshole cut him off.  He wanted nothing more than to ram into the back of his car.  Why not?  He had nothing to lose anyway.  He pulled up to the gas pump.  He needed gas.  If he was going to drive he might as well get gas.  He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of his car.  He walked inside the gas station and walked up to the employee behind the counter.

"Fifty on five please," he said handing the kid a fifty dollar bill.

The kid took he time taking the money.  The kid gave him a funny look. He didn't like that.  He didn't like the kid at all.  The kid held the bill up to the light.

"Sorry this isn't real," said the kid in a bored voice.

"What do you mean it isn't real?" asked Peter.

"I don't see the stuff on it, that you're supposed to see.

"Bullshit the bill is fine."

"Nope, can't use it sorry."

"Then give it back."

The kid dropped the bill on the counter in front Peter.  Peter stared at it for a moment.  That was it.  Peter grabbed the kid by the front of his shirt and got in his face.

"Listen you little shit, you don't want to mess with me today.  That bill is fine and you're going to use it, and don't you ever fucking drop money in front of someone like that.  Do you understand me?"

"Let go of me!" said the kid.  He was scared.  Good.  Peter liked that.  Peter wanted him to be afraid.  In fact he wanted him to feel pain.  Peter slammed the kids head against the counter.  The kid began to cry.

"You little bitch, don't start crying be a man!" Peter said.

The same thought kept playing in the back of his mind.  The same scene.  Driving up to the accident scene.  Knowing what he was about to see.  His wife, his kids...or what was left of them after the crash.  No he hadn't actually been allowed to see the bodies.  He hadn't been allowed to cross the police tape.  The same scene kept playing over in his mind.  The agony he felt.  All he wanted was for someone else to feel it too.

Peter grabbed the pole that usually held the belt that divided the cash register lines.  He climbed over the counter and before the kid could move he swung the metal pole with all his might.  He hit the kid in the head knocking him over.  Peter raised it over his head for another attack.

He saw another employee standing in front of him.  It was the manager.  He had a gun.

"Set that down nice and easy buddy," said the man.  He was older, probably fifty's or sixty's.

Peter thought for a moment.  Then swung the pole down as hard as he could on the kid.  There was a gunshot and Peter fell to the floor dead.  The manager ran to the kid.  The kid was dead too.

The manager called 911.

A Drop In The Bucket

No matter how much it costs

You have to keep pushing on

That's what he told me late that night

When we were alone under the stars

Beers in hands cigarettes burning low

He said this to me long and slow

Life wasn't given to me to throw away

For a purpose I was put here

And for a purpose I would one day die

But not today that's what he said to me

He took a long drink, looked at me

He nodded his head in approval and grunted

You'll be just fine because He's watching over

And in the end you've got glory waiting for you

For eternity, so this life is only a drop

A drop in the bucket compared to life with Him

No matter how much it costs

You're going to keep pushing on

Damn it son, you're gonna push on

Gunslinger

"I know I don't look like it...but I'm a good guy," he told the little boy.

"Are you here to make the bad men go away?" the boy asked.

"Yes," he said.  "I am."

He was a tall man with a broad chest.  He wore jeans and a t-shirt and heavy boots.  He had a kevlar vest on and metal shoulder and wrist guards on.  He had a gas mask covering his face and a suave looking rimmed hat on his head.  He wore a belt that held bullets all along it and a holster which held his trusty six-shooter.  He was dusty and worn looking.  He did look a lot like the slavers and raiders that roamed the wastes.

He had come into town the day before, just passing through.  He never stayed long anywhere.  It just wasn't his style.  But the people here had a problem.  His business was solving problems, and in this world, usually with his gun.  A particularly nasty gang of raiders had decided to take up pestering the small town and its inhabitants.  So now he was waiting in the saloon for the raiders to show up so he could deal with them.  The town's lawman was too frightened to take them on alone.  The lawman had offered to help but he had refused.  He worked alone.

"Care for a drink while you wait, stranger?" asked the lady running the bar.

"No thanks," he said, "I don't drink in public."

"Why's that?"

"I'd have to take this mask off."

"Trying to hide your face or are you afraid of breathing in the air?"

"The air is fine to breath I'm sure."

"I see...why hide your face?  Are you like disfigured or something?"

"My face is quite lovely thank you very much."

"Then why hide it?"

"I don't like people to see it.  Only one person's seen my face since I started wearing this mask five years ago, and she's dead.  No one knows what I look like now, no one ever will."

"So, did you kill her?"

"Who?"

"The lady who saw your face?"

"No.  She was murdered."

"Oh, by who?"

"Raiders.  Who else?"

"I see...she was someone close to you wasn't she?"

"She was my wife."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Me too."

".........so no drink?"

He turned and stared at her.  His expressionless mask made her uncomfortable and she walked away.

"She's just trying to be nice," said the little who was still sitting and watching him.

"I know. I'm not very nice though.  I'm good but I'm not nice."

"Well I like you"

"Thanks, kid."

The sound of breaking glass and screaming from outside signaled the arrival of the gang.  He cracked his neck and then got up and headed for the door.

"Wait, mister!  I want to know your name in case you die!"

"I don't have a name...mister will do just fine."

"Good luck...mister."

"Thanks, kid."

He walked outside into the dusty street.  There were six men.  Perfect.  He had six bullets, that was all he needed.  They were walking up the street towards the bar.  He stood between them and the bar and the six men stopped and looked at him.  They were all dressed in dirty clothing with various bits of armor on.  One man a simple sheet of metal over his chest.  Another had a bullet proof vest.  They all had tattoos and many scars.  The man in the front who must have been the leader spoke up.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm your own personal delivery man."

"And what are you delivering?"

"This."

In a fluid motion he pulled his revolver, pulled the trigger six times in the blink of an eye, and watched as the six bodied of the raiders fell to the floor.  He opened the cylinder of his gun and emptied the shells into the road and reloaded his gun.  He holstered it and then walked on down the road.  His job was done.  It was time to leave.  Time to move on.

Life Is A Video Game

Life is like a video game, except in super ultra hardcore mode.  Every night you go to sleep your progress is saved.  Every task you have is a quest.  You even have a health bar, you just don't actually see it.  You have to eat and drink to keep your HP up.  And every time you complete a task or quest you gain XP, or a the end of every day.  Every year is a new level, and every day brings you closer to the next level.  Sadly, there are no cheat codes to this game.  Whether you win or lose depends purely on you.  Give up on life, you lose the game.  Work hard and keep playing, you're bound to win.  If you should die during the game this doesn't mean you lose, it means you go to the bonus round.  Oh, and one of the best parts is you can make up your own theme music to your life, or you can pick songs to be your theme.  It's really quite fun.  Life is just a really realistic video game, so what do you say?  Shall we play?

Nothing

I've taken off the uniform

I've hung up my cape

Kicked off my boots and socks

Time for a little nothing

Kick back on the couch

Watch a little television

Drink a beer or two or three

Just doin' a little nothing

Sit out on the porch

Watch the sun going down

Glass of lemonade in hand

It's time for nothing

Great aspirations can wait

I think I'll have a little fun

I've been so tired of late

Now I'm gonna do nothing...for a little while

On Call

Honesty was never his trademark

He dealt in blood and money

He was rarely seen by anyone

Wen he was he wore the same thing

Black cloak and boots

Knife and gun at his hips, ready to use

His hair was long and dark

His eyes red and hungry for death

The authorities could never catch him

The only ones who met him were his bosses

The ones that paid him to kill

The business that he was so good at

He never left any trace but he always left a card

A single red rose stained with the blood of his victims

He was always on call, ready to kill

He always watched

His eyes red and hungry for death

X

It is not the last letter of the alphabet

But when you see it you're like

"Oh, I'm getting to the end!"

Because X is near the last letter

The last letter is Z, before it Y

And just before that is X

Which is why you know you are near the end

X looks like two lines crossed at angles

They go WOOP together

and BAM you've got an X

Thank you X

Vomit

Projectiles flying across the room

In bright colors or red, green and blue

Innocent bystanders sprayed with a mist

Even the stupidest can tell something is amiss

Hurling, throwing up, or upping a chuck

Leaning over the toilet in the bathroom you're stuck

This is a horrible poem I'm sure some would say

But it is quite factual in every possible way

Queen

I'll buy her all the things

I'll carry her a thousand miles and more

I'll dazzle her with golden rings

I'll scatter petals across the floor

I'll buy her dresses and flowers

I'll take care of her when she's sick

I'll give her diamond showers

Through thick and thin with her I'll stick

She is my queen

The love of my life

She is my queen

I'll take away all her strife

She is my queen

She is my queen

The Government Is Out To Get Me

I thought I was safe

But then they showed up

In black suits and ties

In their black SUVs and trucks

They started to follow me

Everywhere I went

I knew from the start

From the government they'd been sent

I got in my car

And they tailed me for blocks

When I finally arrived home

They watched my house like hawks

The government is out to get me

My family, my house, my dog

The government is out to get me

Waiting to pounce like a frog

King

Oh how great thou art

Majestic King of all things

Let me dwell with thee

Gone

Sensual responsive notions
Telling haunting voices running free
Saturate with the feelings
Rocks falling down a sloping tree

Nevertheless I'm in too deep
Trusting myself within a dream
Make up a problem with me
I dare because so I seem

I'm not telling you to bleed
Fix your problems on your own time
I'm not telling you to be me
I'm just wasting all of mine

Hug the feeling hate the juice
I'm not telling you to feel the way I do
I'm just being sensitive right?
But he's a bleeder through and through

Why do I listen to myself lie
When all I know is an asphalt scrape
Like just know who is on the inside
I want to be gone, I want to escape

The Bostach Dilemma

John and I stood watching the dolphin swim around in its massive tank.  It was a beautiful creature and it swam very gracefully.  I had been on the upper level earlier and had gotten to pet the dolphin.  My fingers had brushed over its wet, rubbery skin and it had made me smile.  I liked dolphins.  I thought they were beautiful.

The dolphin, whose name was Icca, began swimming wildly.  We could faintly hear the squeaking noise she was making through the glass.

"She's excited about something," I said with a smile.

"No..." said John, "she's worried.  Something's wrong."

Suddenly we heard an explosion from somewhere on the other side of the building.

"Time to go," said John heading towards the exit.

Something was wrong.  There were more explosions going off now.  I had to find Amy, and I had to find my family.  I lost track of John, but I knew he had gone to find his own family.  I looked about.  People were running this way and that.  I turned a corner and saw flames ahead.  Someone grabbed me and pulled me down behind an overturned desk.

"Stay down!" said the employee urgently.

"I have to find someone," I said trying to get up.

"No!" said a second employee holding me back.  "Do you want the Rod Scorpions to find you?"

"The what?"

"The Rod Scorpions, look."

I peeked over the top of the desk and saw come from the fire several tall figures.  They were bright, acid green suits with big helmets.  Through the helmets I could see their faces.  They were skulls.

"What are those things?"

"They come from another planet...they come from Mars.  They're here to liberate Icca!"

"What?!"

"The government has been keeping an eye on the Rod Scorpions for years.  The Rod Scorpions are animals rights activists to the extreme basically.  They're here to free the animals, and possess our race."

"That's stupid!  We don't-"

There was another explosion and I blacked out.

I woke up I don't know how long later with a bad headache.  I was in my bed in my room.  I looked around.  Everything seemed normal enough, apart from my head.  I got up and looked at myself in the mirror.  I looked fine.  I was in the same cloths I had been in at Icca's building.  They were singed a bit and torn in several places.  My face had a scratch across my left cheek, but if anything it gave my face a nice touch.  I walked out to the rest of the house.  No one seemed to be around.

"Hello?" I called.

No one answered.  The ceiling fan above my head began to move seemingly of its own accord.  But then stopped.  Something was off.  There was just something weird.  There was a loud chime and I jumped.  I looked over at the coffee table to see my phone had a voice mail on it.  I picked it up and listened to it.

"Ethan it's Amy.  I've been captured by the Rod Scorpions and am being held captive in a house at the end of the road behind you guys...the one we used to walk down.  They want you to come free me...they...they dare you to come free me.  Your family and my family aren't here.  I don't know where they took them.  Please save me, Ethan.  Please."

The message ended.  I had no idea what I was up against exactly but I decided to gather some weapons to be safe.  I belted on my Bowie knife and another dagger that had been my dad's.  I also grabbed a machete from the basement.  I was about to set out when I heard a voice call out to me from seemingly nowhere.

"Ethan, before you leave you should know we know where you are.  We will always know."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Grock.  We've implanted a tracker in you so we can always keep tabs on you.  Good luck getting your girlfriend back."

The voice laughed loudly and then slowly faded away.  I could not tell where the voice had come from.  It seemed to have been coming from thin air.  I began walking.  I would get Amy back, or die trying.

As I was walking past the gated community near the end of my street I heard another voice call out to me. But it was high pitched and almost robotic sounding.  It made me jump and I turned to see where it was coming from.  It was getting dark out and all I could see where many pairs of glowing eyes staring at me from behind the fence of the gated community.

"Who goes there?" the voice asked.

"My name is Ethan, I don't want any trouble I'm just trying to get my girlfriend back.  If you have her please give her back."

"If we have here?  Why would we have her.  Most likely the Rod Scorpions have her.  They've taken just about everyone."

"Who are you guys then?"

"We're survivors.  The Rod Scorpions haven't tagged us and they don't know where we are.  Are you tagged?"

"I have a tracker in me...so I was told."

"We can get it out of you," said a deep voice.  "My name is Jacques.  We will help you, Ethan.  You'll never get your girlfriend back with the tracker in you.  The Rod Scorpions will be on you like flies to a piece of shit."

The glowing eyes began to move and the side gate opened and out walked a group of people, most of them wearing masks of some kind.

"Drink this," said Jacques handing my a leather skinned canteen.

I drank.  It tasted like old, musty water.  But immediately I began to feel the effects.  My body became very tingly and numb.  I saw Jacques pull a knife out.  He began feeling around my body.  He stopped at my left leg and then cut it open.  I felt pain, but the liquid they had me drink made me really not care.

I woke up some hours later.  my leg had been stitched up.  It was sore but I could stand on it.

"The tracker is out and destroyed, Ethan," said Jacques.  "You must go now.  Save your girlfriend.  She has a tracker in her too most likely.  Find it and cut it out.  Take the juice with you and give it to her first."  He handed me the canteen.

"Thank you...all of you," I said looking at the others behind him.

"You can try to find us again, but only if the tracker is out.  We must not be found."

"Sounds good," I said.  "Thank you again."

"Good luck."

I headed out of the gated community.  I walked to the road and stood watching.  The houses were empty and abandoned.  There was no one around.  I began walking down the street.  There was a cloths line with shirts and dresses on it outside one of the houses.  It began to move as if from wind, but there was no wind.  Suddenly before me appeared the shape of a man.  It was made of a strange black, liquid form, or maybe smokey form.  It was hard to tell.

"Welcome traveler," it said to me.

"Hello..." I said warily..."Who are you?"

"My name is Grock.  I own this street."

"We've met before then."

"I do not have you registered human."

"I bet you don't."  I swung my machete.  As I guess it did nothing but pass through the form of Grock.  Then down the road came the skeleton soldiers in the suits.  They ran at me.  They were solid material.  I cut them down with my machete.

"Grock, I want my girlfriend back!"

"Wait...you...but you had a tracker in you...you were registered!"

"I don't anymore."

"No matter, you can't kill me with your blades silly human."

"But this will!" shouted a voice from behind.  A burst of flame consumed Grock and he shrieked in agony.

It was Jacques again.

"I forgot to mention you'll need a flame thrower.  The Rod Scorpion can only be killed with fire.  Their puppets, the skeletons are easy enough to destroy but the Rod Scorpions are a bit tougher."

"Again...thank you."

"No problem.  And I'm coming with you the rest of the way."

"Thanks Jacques...that's nice of you."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go."

Ring.  Ring.

My phone went off.  I pulled it from my pocket.  It was Amy.

I woke up.

Darling

We can talk straight through the night

Stay up and waste time as long as we're together

We don't worry about anything

Stress is not in our vocabulary or in our thoughts

Even when things need to get done

We do it and do it happily

When those rain clouds come rolling in

When the water rises higher and higher up

When the fire is licking at out heels

As long as we have each other

Some way some how I know we'll make it through

My darling, my love I know we'll make it through

Animal

He ran like a cheetah
He had the hearing of an elephant
His eyes were like a hawks
His strength was like a gorilla
His skin was tough like an armored reptile
He was as animal
Agile and nimble, strong and terrible
Yellow eyes, bulging muscles
Long tangled hair
He was ugly and mean

She had a slender body
Long legs and brown eyes
Long hair, clean and auburn and beautiful
A lovely dress, all puffy and lacy
Her skin was fair and pale
She was small and helpless
She was gorgeous and likable

He loved her when he saw her
And he swung through tree to meet her
Following the beating of his heart
She was frightened at first
But slowly she fell for that animal
That ugly beast of a man
Because love is a powerful thing

Zombie

We stumble and crawl
Brainless and stepping two feet
In front of the other daily
On a track and going
Never stopping always moving
But we never look at the details
The little things in life that make
Special the days we live
Instead we go on the same track
We keep moving at the same pace
Doing what we always do
We might as well be eating flesh
And drink blood
We might as well be zombies
With only one focus on ourselves
Never mind everyone else
Me me me is important
Like zombies we stumble we crawl
Brainless and stepping two feet
In front of the other
Daily, ever day, every night
Zombies all the same

Lost

All days come to an end
All sorrows slip away into the night
Light is just on the horizon
The morning hour dark lasts not

Happiness is not a choice
No more than a bird is not meant to fly
No less than a dog knows its owner
Still, be still my heart

Clouds hide the sun
But yield the heavenly water
To make strong the earth
To bear forth fruits

Cling to one another briefly
Knowing each time you let go
You may see each other no more
It may be your last embrace

Do not forget your love
Do not forget her face
When the night closes in
Picture the sweet smile of the angel

All days come to an end
All sorrows slip away into the night
Light is just on the horizon
But she is gone forever

The Burning

They were coming down the hill all in a line.  Swords swinging from their hips, spears pointing towards the sky.  The hunt had been successful.  There were three boars each one carried by four men.  The leader of the hunting party, Sir Varin of Lance, rode a mighty steed with a black coat.  The beast rode proudly at the head of the party, its head held high and its eyes focused straight ahead.

Children came running from village to see the party return.  Women holding babes stood and watched from their doorsteps.  Many women had husbands returning in the party.  Lady Syra, the wife of Sir Varin, stood at the doorway of the min hall waiting for her husband to come to her.  She wanted to run to him, but she knew this is would be improper of her.  So instead she waited with bated breath.

The old Lord Targin of Brhee also waited outside the main hall.  He carried a book with him as he almost always did.  His son Tomahs was returning that day as well.  All the young lads who had not gone on the hunt and joined in the returning party and walked with the hunters.

When Sir Varin rode up to the main hall and got off his horse his wife then ran to him and they embraced.  She beamed at him.  The days they were apart had been difficult for her, and for him, though the hunt had occupied him enough.

"How was it?" she asked.

"The hunt," said Sir Varin loudly to all gathered around, "was successful!  Tonight we feast good people of Brhee!"

The people cheered and laughed with excitement.  The children all continued to laugh and dance around and peasant folk all began to chatter among one another.

That night the feast was held in the main hall, but there were so many people that tables had to be set up outside.  The three boars were roasted and served along with an abundance of vegetables and the finest ale and wine.  People talked and laughed and sang songs of merriment.  The children played on the floor.  They chases each other or threw bones for the dogs and played with the cats with small balls of string.  It was a happy night.

But deep out of the woods a great evil crawled.  The Goracks came from their caves.  They brought torches with their wicked battle axes.  The Goracks were not human.  They were devil-like creatures with cruel horns that twisted out of their ugly heads.  They were up to ten feet tall, but usually no smaller than eight.  They had thick muscular arms for ripping and tearing.  The Goracks sole purpose in life was destroy all humans.  They hated humans with a passion.  They loved nothing more than to destroy them.

The Goracks came to the town and began to light it on fire.  Everyone was attending the feast and by the time someone saw the fires it was too late.  They were raging all around and spreading closer and closer to the main hall.  The villagers were frightened and women and children cried.
Sir Varin walked out to the front the hall and drew he sword.  he raised it into the air.

"Cursed be you Goracks!" he shouted.

It was answered by a monstrous bellow.  A victorious bellow.

And Brhee burned.

Wabby

"Are we going to go for a walk today, Wabby?"

"Yes, Jack, yes we are."

"It's gonna be fun isn't it, Wabby?"

"Yes, Jack, we'll have a real fun time."

"Yes, Jack.  We need to eat.  We've got to stay healthy."

"You're so smart, Wabby.  I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

"Do you think we'll always be friends, Wabby?"

"Yes Jack, I think we will be."

"The doctor says you ain't real, Wabby."

"The doctor is a smart man, Jack."

"What you saying, Wabby.  You saying you ain't real?"

"I said the doctor is a smart man."

"He says the medicine will make you go away...I don't want to lose you, Wabby."

"I'll always be with you, Jack.  I'll always be in your heart."

"You promise?"

"Yes, Jack.  Because I love you.  Now do what the good doctor says."

"Okay, Wabby.  I love you too."

He swallowed the pills and Wabby went away.

That Moment When Your Heart Stops

She stood at the edge of the cliff.  Should she jump?  No the fall would surely kill her.  But maybe that was a better death than the one behind her.  Who knew what he would do to her, but killing her slowly, that was a sure thing.  Slowly and painful.  Most likely there would be lots of blood.  He would mutilate her, once he was done using her body.  He was the sickest of the sick.  She knew it.  She'd heard all the reports of what he'd done to those other women.  Twelve other women.  She would be the thirteenth.

A thought crossed her mind.

Thirteen was an unlucky number.  No, she wasn't really superstitious.  But maybe, just maybe, he'd be caught this time.  Maybe thirteen would be his unlucky murder and the police would catch and send him to hell.  That was where he belonged.  Hell.  The deepest most evil part of it.

She wasn't sure where she was going.  Would she go to heaven?  She had gone to church since she was a little girl.  But her heart had never really been in it.  She believed in God...she believed in her savior.  Yes...she was going to heaven.  She was sure of it.  She was sure of it.

What would her family feel like.  They would miss her probably.  She's never been close with her brothers and sisters, or even her parents for that matter. But she knew they would miss her, just as much as she would miss them if they died.

She was going to die.  She could jump off this cliff to the rocky waters below.  Or she could wait to be raped and ripped up by the mad man chasing her.

She looked behind her.  Any moment he'd be coming around that corner, carrying his evil ax.

Alex.  She was going to miss Alex.  They'd been together since highschool.  He was her best friend.  If there ever was a real Prince Charming it was her beloved Alex.  She had tried to call him before she lost her phone.  There had been no answer and she hadn't had time to leave a message.  She only wanted to tell him she loved him one last time.

She couldn't jump.  She just couldn't do it.  She collapsed on the ground and began to cry.  She began to shake.  She closed her eyes and curled up in a ball.  She waited.

A hand grabbed her shoulder.  Instinctively she screamed and lashed out with her hand.  She wasn't going down without a fight.

"Marissa!" called a voice.

She opened her eyes.

"ALEX!" she screamed and flung her arms around him.  He was covered in blood.

"You're alright, I've got you now."  he said as she sobbed into his shoulder.  He wrapped her tightly in his arms.

"What happened?  How did you find me?"

"I tracked your phone from the office when I saw you called.  I had a feeling something was wrong.  I found your car...I saw the tracks."

"Did you see...him?"

"He's dead Mar...I shot him."

"Alex....I love you."

"I love you too.  Let's get you home."

Richard's Town

Richard's Town was a small community in the once peaceful and quiet town of Fallbrook.  It was a gated community with an iron fence that ran all the way around the perimeter.  It had two entrances, one at either end of the the town.  The fences had barbed wire all along the top, and outside there were trenches about five feet wide and five feet deep.  At the bottom of the trench were wooden stakes carved to a sharp point.  Behind the fences were flood lights that ran on generators.  They were all hooked up to the main generator in the center of the town. The two gates were opened manually and had barbed wire on the top as well.  The houses in the town were similarly fortified.  The windows were boarded up from both the inside and outside, the doors fitted with bolts and latches on the inside.

All along the fence line walked guards.  Armed guards with guns and swords, bows and arrows, spears and axes.  They patrolled the perimeter at all times and at the gates there were always half a dozen guards.  On the outside of Richard's Town were the seekers.  They were the walking dead.  Mindless monsters that roamed the earth.  Ninety-five percent of the world's population had turned into the seekers, wanting flesh and blood from the other five percent that remained sane and human.  They bred at an alarming rate and their growth was accelerated by the virus, whatever is was.  Within a month a baby seeker was born and within a year it was fully grown into an adult.  It had been five years from the start of the virus.  Richard's Town was a colony of survivors made up of around two hundred people, men, women, and children.  They guarded the town day and night.

Richard was the man who had started the town, and he named it after himself.  Or rather the people decided to name it after him to which he had no objections.  Now Richard was a practical man.  He did what needed to be done to keep his colony safe.  He cared for each and every person that he watched over, and he really cared for them.  More than once, before they had settled in Richard's Town, Richard had nearly lost his life defending his people.  The seekers were slow and not very bright, but in large numbers they could cause a problem...and there were so many of them, they were always breeding.  But they did not like the light, so once the flood lights were set up Richard's Town became a safe haven.  Richard was the perfect leader for them.

But they were running into a problem.  Food was running low.  They had stocked up and brought in cans of food from the surrounding neighborhoods, but the supply was running low.  Richard was going to lead a party of ten men, including himself,  deeper into the surrounding area.  They would travel during the day with two trucks to gather as much as they could.  They would have to start doing this on a weekly basis at least.  Richard's girlfriend suggested they start growing crops.  They had done so but waiting for the crops to grow, well, it just took time.  They needed food now.

They got up early in the morning and armed themselves.  Richard buckled on his trusty six-shooter and hunting knife.  On his back he had sheathed a large two-handed sword he named The Bull.  The other nine men all carried swords as well except for one man who had a battleaxe. They carried guns as well, but melee weapons were better for looting missions.  It kept the noise down, noise that might attract other seekers.  They set out in the trucks heading towards the old downtown Fallbrook.  The sun was shining and the seeks were all hiding indoors or under cars or in bushes and trees.  The seekers did not chase after the trucks at all.  Even when they stopped and got out the seekers did not approach them because of the sun.  The light must have hurt their skin because they hated it so much.

They arrived in a neighborhood they had not yet looted.  It was a nice neighborhood, also a gated community.  But these gates sat wide open broken at the hinges.  They started on the first block of houses.  They kicked down the door and cleared out the house, killing any seekers that they came across.  The houses were full of the creatures, but once they were taken care of they were able to find lots of canned goods.  They moved to the next block of houses, but they were surprised to find a barricade on the street.  There were me standing on top the barricade.  One of the men opened a gate off to the side and approached.  The other men all held guns aimed at the trucks.

"Who are you and what do you want with us?" asked the man.  He held a pistol on his hand.  Richard rolled down the widow.

"The name's Richard," he said.  "We're just scavenging the neighborhood for food."

"Well you can't scavenge here, move along," the man said.

"What's your name?" asked Richard.

"Thomas," the man replied.  "Now move along."

"Are you in charge, Thomas?"

"No, I'm second in command."

"Well let me speak with whoever is in charge.  You see, we come from a colony.  A much bigger, and probably safer colony."

"So what?"

"So...you could maybe join us, there is strength in numbers."  Thomas stood thoughtfully for a moment.

"Wait here, get out of your vehicles and wait here.  I'll be back."

He walked away and came back a a few moments later with another man.  This man was tall, at least six and a half feet, and had broad shoulders and thick muscular arms.  He was to say the least, intimidating.

"My name is Eric," said the big man.

"Richard, pleased to meet you, Eric," said Richard.

"Thomas here has told me of your proposal.  But let me tell you, we don't like outsiders.  I don't like this colony of yours, and I don't like you.  You should have left when we gave you the chance."

He turned and began to walk away.  As he did so he raised his arm and the soldiers along the barricade opened fire.  Richard and all his men were gunned down.  Eric's small colony, The Pike, lived on.  Richard's Town people were worried when Richard and the other men did not come back. Two days later they accepted the worst.  Women and children cried at the loss of their husbands and fathers.  They sent out a scouting party to look for them.  The three men came back and reported the small colony of The Pike, and that the bodies of Richard and the other men were lashed to the barricade out front.  Some people wanted to wipe out The Pike, others said it was best to leave them alone.

A small boy, only ten years old, who had lost his father Ben at The Pike sat alone in the woods in Richard's Town.  He did not cry.  He had never cried in his life, not that he could remember anyway.  He just sat there, wondering why in times of such strife people could not just get along.  They all had a common enemy.  The seekers were a danger to them all.  So why could people not just come together, and help each other?

It was a good question with a simple answer.

Teach Me

I'm held together with glue

But I'm still solid stone and wood

Feeble and weak I may be sometimes

But I hold fast in what I believe

Foolish and reckless as I might be

You still love me and bless me

Tiresome I might grow on myself

You are there for me always

You sent me an angel

To protect me to keep my heart

Teach me to love like You

Teach me to sacrifice

Bleed if I must, break if I must

To keep my angel safe

To keep Your name sacred

Teach me to be a man

Teach me oh Creator

That I might be a leader, and more than a conqueror

Blood Sky

Tora begot Ablam, Ablam begot Thagar, Thagar begot Temon, Temon begot Lucius, Lucius begot Fangar, Fangar begot Elmis, and Elmis begot Tablan who begot Ebor.  Thus lay the genealogy of Ebor's family.  They were not high-born folk, nor were they poor peasants.  They were a middle-class family who lived in the great city of Thamopolis.  Ebor, like his father's before him was a blacksmith.  He was no common blacksmith though.  For he had Elf blood in his veins.  Elves were known for their natural ability to forge beautiful and even sometimes magical metals.  Ebor was, unfortunately, the least skilled of all his family as a blacksmith.  Nevertheless he worked at it day and night, forging blades and armor that would sell for nothing but the highest price.  Ebor himself had forged King Mormont's current set of armor and blade.  The King's blade was short and broad with a hilt that twisted like tree roots.  The pommel was in the shape of a two sided flower with delicate petals.  Elven runes were etched into the blade and it was forged with spells that kept the blade from dulling.  It was probably Ebor's finest work, though he knew that his father or his father before him could have done better.  Still Ebor was the best smithy in the city, probably in all the land of Aeron.

One day Ebor was working, hammering away at the blade of what would soon be a beautiful exotic looking scimitar.  A man in a cloak with the hood drawn up walked into the workshop.  Ebor thought it was odd that the man wore a heavy cloak, with the hood up no less, because it was very hot out, as most days were during the summer months in Thamopolis.  The man's face was hidden by the hood, his head bowed down towards the ground.  In fact Ebor was not so sure the man even had a face beneath the hood.  Everything about the man was strange and slightly frightening.

"Hello there," said Ebor.

"Greetings, blacksmith," the man said in a raspy, low voice.

"How can I be of service?"

"I wish you to make me a blade."

"What sort of blade, most customers who want a custom blade have a drawing of sorts, some kind of plan."

"I have no drawings, but I will tell you my plan."

The man stood there and when he said nothing Ebor cleared his throat and asked "What is your plan for the blade?"

"It is to be a double edged broadsword.  I know you infuse the blade with Elvish spells to keep it in perfect condition.  I trust my blade will not dull anymore than the King's blade.  The hilt may be standard, but the ends of the hand guard are to be rounded in a teardrop shape, with the end point facing out.  I want the handle covered in wolf's hair.  The pommel is to be shaped with a wolf's head, two diamonds will sit as eyes.  The whole hilt of the sword must be coated in gold."

"This will be an expensive sword.  My labor alone is not cheap."

"Price is no object.  Tell me, how much will it cost?"

"Twenty gold coins, and ten silvers."

"Very well.  I will be by tomorrow to pick the sword up, before sunset."

"I cannot finish the blade in that time, besides I have other weapons I must finish first, orders that were placed before yours."

"I will return before sunset tomorrow.  You will have the blade finished."

The man walked out and Ebor called after him.  He ran outside and looked all about the street but the cloaked man was nowhere to be seen.  Ebor returned inside and continued his work.  He finished the scimitar that night and though he had another sword that he had to start on the next day, he decided to work on the wolf sword first.  The wolf head pommel alone would hours to make.  Ebor was not sure he could finish the blade in time, but he had to try.

The sun was setting and the cloaked man entered the smithy.  He dropped a bag of coins on the table and faced Ebor.

"Is it ready?" he asked.

"I finished it not ten minutes ago," Ebor said.  He walked to the sword rack and pulled the wolf sword off and handed it to the cloaked man.

The man grasped the sword and held it in front of him.  His face was still hidden, and Ebor was not sure how the man could even see anything.  The man stared at the blade for a few moments then turned and cut Ebor on the arm.  Ebor gave a shout of pain.

"What did you do that for?"

"I want you to feel what it is like to feel pain at your own hand.  Your hands made this blade, I cut you with it.  You are the reason you are feeling this pain.  You caused this pain.  Every sword you makes causes someone pain somewhere, you should feel some of that pain."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You forge death."

"I forge swords and armor!"

"You forge war."

"I'm just a smith!"

"You forge evil.  Now you must feel what you forge."

The man raised the sword high above his head and brought is down, cutting Ebor open from shoulder to stomach.  Blood gushed forward and pooled around as Ebor collapsed to the ground.  The cloaked man stuck the sword in Ebor's head and the took his leave.

The sun set red.

The Judge

"It started as riots in the street.  People making messes, beating other people up.  Then the killing started.  The police tried to stop it, but sheer numbers drove them back.  So many died...the bodies just...piled in the streets.  The smell was unbearable for a while.  Even in the cleaner parts the stench crept in and lingered there.  Your nose finally got used to the stink of rotting flesh, and the sight of dead bodies was just something you got used to.  The only safe place was your home, and even then there was guarantee.  Houses were raided and looted.  I remember the neighbors had moved in with us, we had boarded up the house, but they got in anyways.  One night a group of men broke in...killed my father and the other men, raped the women...I'm not sure why they kept me alive...but they took me with them.  I was their prisoner for three days before I escaped.  I came to a small settlement that had once been a gated community.  Well it was still gated, but fortified, with guards patrolling the perimeter.  A family took me in...I met your mother there.  Life in that place was good.  I got a job in a library.  One the bigger houses had been turned into one, and there were all sorts of books there.  I had that job for a while.  By the time I was eighteen I married your mother, and then I did something that I had never imagined.  The community was getting too large, too many people and not enough room.  So I went to the town sheriff and told him I would lead a group of people to another location and start another community.  So I did.  And here we now."

"Here we are..."

"It is time for you to make a choice.  You can kill me, your own father, take what you will, or you can be on your way.  I'm not making you stay here, no one is.  I don't know what has driven you to this."

"You know damn right what drove me to this."

"The government?"

"You're nothing but a troublemaker.  I'm ashamed to call you my father."

"I'm not a troublemaker.  I'm standing for my freedom.  You should to.  Not be following somebody because why, he looks pretty in a suit?  He's a fake.  He wants power, and he'll take every last bit of freedom from us.  You know that's what started the riots in the first place, it's what caused the first government to fall.  They tried to control everyone's lives, and people snapped.  They got tired of it.  It happened before it will happen again.  Anyone who follows him, yourself included, are being played for fools."

"I'm not a fool.  You're the fool.  When you are dead I'll be taking over this town.  I will serve President Simon until I die.  Because he's a man worth serving."

"Well then...why don't you kill me and get this over with?  There's no more to be said."

Steven looked at his father, pointing his gun at his chest.  He wanted to kill him...or did he?  Those were his orders, to kill William Ryan.  To kill his own father...to take over the town for the government...for President Simon.

He pulled the trigger.  He father fell to the floor.  Steven bit his lip then walked out of the room.

"What took you so long?" asked Reg.

"He wanted to talk," was all Steven said.

"He's dead then?"

"He's dead."

Everyone had been gathered in the center of town.  Steven walked to the fountain in the middle and stood up on the wall and looked out over the people.  They all looked frightened and confused.  He saw his men, all standing around with guns.

"People of Oldtown, you have been taken under the jurisdiction of the New Government of California.  I, Steven Ryan hereby take the position of town mayor.  All cases are now ruled by me and all law is in the hands of the new sheriff, Reg Maggly.  You may all return to your homes and go about your daily business, but if you wish to leave the premises you must first consult Sheriff Maggly or myself.  That is all."

Steven stepped down from the fountain and walked back towards the house that was now his.  He ordered one of the me to remove his father's body and clean the floor.  Steven went into his office and shut the door.

* * *

A letter arrived for Steven early on a Saturday morning.  It was from President Simon himself asking Steven how the taking of Oldtown had gone.  Steven wrote his reply and then decided to go for a walk.  He left Oldtown and walked north along the old highway.  The cracked and broken road stretched on before him and the dusty gray sky rose high at the horizon.  A razor crow flew above him, its leathery wings beating against the air, its claws opening and closing periodically.  The beast no doubt was hoping that Steven would drop down dead, so that it could feast on his flesh.  Razor crows had appeared about a decade ago.  No one knew where they came from, or what exactly they were, but they resembled a skeletal, reptilian bird.  Since they were scavengers and had razor sharp claws they were dubbed razor crows.  It was a fitting name for the ugly avian species.  The razor crow continued to circle overhead and Steven walked onward.

He came to a a bridge that stretched over a river.  As he walked over the bridge he saw a cloaked and hooded figure standing in the center of the bridge.  The figure had its back to him but as he approached it turned and faced him.  Steven found himself face to face with a skeleton.  The empty hollow eyes stared at him and a bony mouth hung slightly open.

"Welcome traveler," said the skeleton.

"Hello..." said Steven warily.

"What do you seek beyond this bridge?"

"I am only wandering, I seek nothing."

"Do you know what lies beyond this bridge?"

"No, what's beyond the bridge?"

"Paradise.  A land a green.  Flowing rivers of clean water, trees bearing the best fruit."

"Really, and what is this lad called?"

"Some call it Neweden.  I simply call it Paradise...because that's what it is...paradise."

"Who are you?"

"The Judge."

"The Judge of what."

"The Judge of who passes by to Paradise, and who dies here."

"I think I'll just go back..."

"You cannot go back.  It is too late.  What's done is done."

"Well then, can I go on?"

"No you cannot.  You are unworthy of Paradise."

"So where am I supposed to go?"

"Nowhere.  Here your life ends and your bones turn to dust and blow away in the wind.  My judgement is passed."

Steven's heart stopped and he fell down dead.

The razor crow swooped down to begin its feast.  The Judge turned his back, facing Paradise.

My Angel

The joy in my heart cannot be expressed
But this feeling of peace is one of the best
My happiness is shown by the smile I wear
From ear to ear it makes people stare
But I don't care about that too much
I'm in my own world with my love and such
I've been blessed beyond my dreams
She's like an angel or so it would seem
I like to think she saved my life
She came in at the peak of my strife
When all of me had come undone
She came to my rescue, came at a run
Headfirst she dove in and pulled me out
I thank my God for her and all about
I like to think she's an angel, one of the best
And the joy in my heart cannot be expressed

The Vampire and the Wolf-girl

The Vampire and the Wolf-girl

Deep in the Black Mountains there lived a vampire by the name of Khan. He lived in a great castle guarded by his deathless Dark Knights. In the mountains around the castle were countless caves, big and small, inhabited by the dragons that Khan bred. Khan was the only dragon breeder for hundreds of leagues and they were not cheap. Khan was enormously rich, the cellars of his castle being full of gold and jewels. It was said that even the dragon caves were stuffed with countless treasures. Khan was ruler of the Black Mountains and the surrounding swamp lands.

Far to the east there lay the Grass Lands and the great Silver Wood. The woods were home to many creatures and beings including elves, centaurs, fauns, and sages, and wolves. It was also home to the queen of the Silver Wood, the wolf-girl named Alexandra. She was a beautiful girl with long dark hair and gray eyes that held all the secrets of the world. She lived in a large tree house in a massive sagewood tree. She bred wolves. They were not ordinary wolves but smart wolves that understood her words and voice and did as she commanded. They were her pack, and she led them. All who lived in the Silver Wood loved her and she ruled over them as a great queen.

In the north there lay the Cursed Mountains. Here the evil Lord Vorgath ruled over his filthy hordes of goblins. They were a plague of darkness on the land. The goblins roamed in great masses over the mountains. They began to creep into the Grass Lands and cause mayhem and shed much blood of the free folk there. So Alexandra rallied her people together and called upon Khan to help fight Vorgath's armies. Khan loved the wolf-girl with all his heart and vowed to do everything in his power to stop Vorgath and his goblins from destroying the Grass Lands and the Silver Wood. They met on the Plain Fields early one morning. On the other side of the fields stood the army of Vorgath. Vorgath was at the front of his forces atop a great ugly spider. Khan was at the front of his forced riding a large golden dragon named Vlador. The other dragons were behind him all bearing the Dark Knights that served Khan. Alexandra and her army of woodland folks stood next to Khan's. Vorgath made the first move, sending forth his legions of goblins. The battle was long and bloody, but it was won and the goblins and Vorgath were driven back to the Cursed Mountains, broken and battered. But it was not without a great price.

Khan had gotten off Vlador's back to fight on the ground with his Dark Knights. Though he slew hundreds of goblins he was finally overwhelmed and bound in chains. A wooden stake was then driven through his heart. Alexandra was fighting Vorgath himself when she was cut down by his cruel blade of silver. The dragons mourned the loss of their master and the folk of the Silver Wood cried long into the night at the death of their queen.

Vorgath rotted from his battle wounds and died in his castle. The goblins now leaderless feared to leave the Cursed Mountains. The dragons lived on in the Black Mountains and the Dark Knights still watched over Khan's castle. The Silver Wood never again had another queen, but the folk there lived in peace for the rest of their days. Khan and Alexandra lived on in eternity in the afterlife, together forever.