Clayman > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Glancing at the carriages as my train catterpillars by, I pause silently to see your face. Memory of you but a sprout of yesterday. The years st..

This is what i go through when setting a diamond into a ring for a customer.

Selling off her face in lots we turn a blind eye to her caustic tears as we erect our exhalers of ebon air. She never agreed to this. Vampir..

War

The Pyre of absolution distills purity

Just felt like writing

We all have dreams that never got to grow up with us. This is a requiem, an ode to the dreams wandering the cemetery.

Written from the perspective of a stranger sitting in a restuarant and looking at a group of youths eating and enjoying themselves outside"