Alixzandra Wiseman
Stories (114/0)
Astral Desires
I will lay upon my bed, breathing deeply with but a mere sound , although I long to sleep and I know my body will, but my mind will not, for when my body slumbers in a state of what mere mortals call sleep my spirit within becomes more awake than ever before, drifting high up and out of my shell of flesh to the places of chosen desire.
By Alixzandra Wiseman4 years ago in Poets
I Hope You Read This
To my dearest astraling form Mr H, Should I now admit it? Am I a fool within this waking state to write this down on digital paper? You are so determined to claim me and yet you are nothing more that an astral formal , your physical form miles away from me yet there you stand before me at the foot of my bed as clear as day, yet only a projection of yourself.
By Alixzandra Wiseman4 years ago in Filthy
18+ To Say I Love You Such An Easy Feat 18+
A cabin lock off from the world outside , howling winds of winter whipping across the rafters of the roof , while that ever howling winter wind scatters snow across the ground, covering it in a blanket of glittering white flakes.
By Alixzandra Wiseman4 years ago in Poets
Forgotten Time: Part Two
Part 2: Picture of the past My eyes darting back around me as the front door that I had so eagerly walked through and having opened it without invitation, closed once again with a loud click as it returned inside the frame. There is no way a breeze could have pulled the door closed and although to my eyes there was no view of anything or anyone, I could not help but feel there was someone still watching me from within the shadows, a feeling that most likely had followed me from outside.
By Alixzandra Wiseman4 years ago in Horror
Forgotten Time: Part One
There is a mansion of gothic Victorian elegance, hidden behind a tidy garden and a high iron fence that stops any unwilling soul wandering up the driveway to the ornate porch which shield the front door from the elements of bitter winters and cursed April showers.
By Alixzandra Wiseman4 years ago in Horror
Thomas Elemental
I feel you there, the warlock of such power . No one knows your secret gift for it is not on public display, yet there you stand before your alter , you torso free of the burden of finest cotton but there across you skin markings of your craft , not permanent in their symbolic display for these markings are dripping.
By Alixzandra Wiseman4 years ago in Poets