monster of self-consciousness > Writing | WritersCafe.org

The Prophecy The strings controlled by fate entangled.. Sorrowful destinies of extinguished fires.. Angels with bloodied, rotten claws.. Siniste..

Who am I? .. The answer eludes me, I don’t know.. Something so easy, yet its all in the dark.. Nothing beyond a name appears.. Am I the shel..

A winter's touch, a frosty kiss.. A heart made of ice.. A small knife behind her back.. And words full of lies.. She waits for me.. A little cl..

I want to go to that place.. Where I can hold on to you so tight.. So that even if the nights get colder.. The warmth we share.. Would be enough f..

Whilst the clouds float away, ever so slowly.. The sun still shines, though on the verge of setting.. Is that akin to the reason why.. Some things ..

Snow crystals.. each is so beautiful.. each is so unique.. So different.. Yet they all share one single trait.. They can only thrive in the cold.. ..

The fault lies not with the fate.. For even the stars die in the end.. We reap what we sow.. Oblivion and endless sorrow.. It is what it is.. A..

So many words left unsaid.. Words about you, about her, about him, and about me.. Because the lines were blurred, and the knots undone.. No wonder ..

The distance that separates us.. I cannot hope to traverse it anymore.. Not with these tattered sails of mine.. That are now entangled and entwined..