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Call me Wind
It was then the at the last moments of my life that I have lived so long avoiding where I finally took a look around and seen what it was that I was once beholding. I took a long look around that was all around me, above, below, wipe out into the fields that the people were there planting and sowing, I watched the fires burn brightly in the night and seen all the stars in the sky erupt with all the light and shine. I sat there and watched the rise and fall of all the ones who came before and after, I watched the cities burn and turn to ashes, I watched the sky fall and grow back, seen the mountains give way and crack, fall to nothingness, and rise up once again tall and mightier than before, I seen the great halls of the days of yore where all those would meet, gather to and flock thereafter no more. I had seen the sights of those whom dwell in the hills and upon the valleys, I seen the old men cry out in anger and sob in their misery. I watched for eons with no thought or care to even set foot on their ground. I have been there above you and below you and all around. My name gives me purpose and cause and scene, I am called the Wind, my friend, welcome, what brings you to me?
William L. Truax IIIPublished 8 months ago in FictionHorror in the 90s: 'Warlock'
Warlock (1991) Directed by Steve Miner Written by David Twohy Starring Julian Sands, Lori Singer, Richard E. Grant
Sean PatrickPublished 8 months ago in HorrorShe had dreams
She had dreams. She had dreams of flying to the sky. She had dreams of clutching a star. She had dreams of swimming in sunlight.
Jennisea RedfieldPublished 8 months ago in PoetsHAUNTED HALLOWEEN IN BLACKWOOD HOLLOW
The wind howled like a pack of wolves on the prowl, and rain lashed against the windowpanes like a relentless enemy trying to breach a fortress. It was a cold and stormy Halloween night in the small, isolated town of Blackwood Hollow. The townsfolk had always been wary of Halloween, for they believed that on this night, the veil between the living and the dead grew thin, and the spirits of the past could return to the mortal realm.
Graneledone boreopacifica
The first eggs of spring melt hope Into a burden - Coins trodden into The sword edge of the Bed. Buried thick beneath.
Spiritual Recharge
Spirituality for serenity and calmness Is not about dogma or doctrine But about awareness and practice Of the simple and profound truths
Memory
Dreams belong to me. They are my story, my experiences. Bound by rules only I can attempt to understand. Memories belong to us. We are shaped by them, we shape the ones to come. We experience them over and over again. In glee and delight. Sweeter with time and more profound with age. Memories ripen under our shared gaze. Context fading and pleasure rising. Context is the cage that restricts. It limits, restrains the glee. The less of it we have the more fantastic the memory, the more ecstasy we allow the memory to drown us in. When we remember, we dream together.
Tarik MurrellPublished 8 months ago in Poets“The Curse of Bhangarh: Trapped in the Haunted Shadows”
The moon was high in the sky in Rajasthan, and it made the city of Bhangarh look spooky with its light. The city that used to be prosperous is now destroyed, with its tall buildings and falling apart palace reminding people of a disliked past. As the sun went down, the atmosphere in Bhangarh was different, and the air seemed to become denser with a creepy feeling.
ScribbleSagePublished 8 months ago in Horror