exsanguis

Written 3 years ago, at the ripe old age of 15 Sometimes, you see nothing With your eyes wide open, And when you see You perceive nothing. Sometimes, you run your fingers on things But the sense of touch is lost, Even when you touch You feel nothing. Sometimes you breathe in air Full of smells, But you smell nothing. Even when you smell, Do you recognize what it is? No, everything smells the same. Sometimes, with all the noise around you, You only hear the sound of the silence. A silence, which means nothing to you. Sometimes, you walk along a road. An endless road, leading to nowhere. Still you try to reach the end, As if there is one. Sometimes, you go to sleep You dream of things that never happened never will. Your pain wakes you up. Only to remind you it was a dream. Sometimes, you look into the future Which only brings your past. A past so painful, All black and white. Sometimes, you take a shower in the moonlight to wash away your pain. Light sweeps your heart only to refresh your agony again. Sometimes, you find yourself amid four walls. Walls so high that you can't even see the sky, May be there is none for you. Sometimes, the clock slows down, The time doesn't pass. Each second seems an hour, Counting down infinite time. Sometimes, you hope for better hope for change. And when it changes, It only worsens the worst. Sometimes, you try to show what's inside you. The pain the agony, the lust for love. But to whom? You live in a world where you are the only one. Sometimes, you cry aloud, You weep with the silence of death. You don't know why you are the one to feel the only one to suffer such grief. Sometimes, you like someone She dislikes you as much as you like her. Then, you love her, Hatred is what you get in return. As much hatred as your love. Sometimes, you wish to draw the end to a life without any enemy nor any friend. You want to give up all. What stops you all the time? What keeps you alive? Hope.

The Tree of Despair hangs over me Its enveloping branches choke the life out of me It feeds on death to renew itself Its only hope is to lead the innocent into damnation The death of innocent souls keeps it alive So many souls have passed this way And met their doom Led astray by the grim surroundings They found many ways to kill themselves Hundreds of bodies hang from the branches And the leaves are blood red They fall to the ground And turn black Adding to the sense of despondency All those filled with shame Head this way Your end awaits you Welcome to the Wood of Death And the Tree of Despair In this land of dead souls The Dark Lord surveys all His blood red eyes dismiss all hope And twinkle wickedly at the dreadful scene Only evil can thrive in his Dark Kingdom Each night he counts the victims Who hang from the Tree of Despair I give you fair warning Do not trespass there

The Sorcerer cast his spell, Raises demons from hell, Trouble is brewing, It will make shocking viewing. The sky will turn black, There is no going back, Cities thrown into turmoil, Nothing left to spoil. Nothing but ruins and bricks, That’s what comes of devilish tricks, Beware when calling on the Dark Lord, Be sure you agree a price you can afford. There is no point in taking a leading role, If you let him feast on your soul, A member of the living dead, Should have asked the Good Lord instead. Pray for salvation, Or else face damnation.

It is surprising just how much we, as mere mortal shells, find ourselves losing as the years go by. We have our memories of course, but there are almost always times in those memories where we wish we had done something different, said something wiser or more amusing. I was just wondering if people would be willing to talk about them, to post what they miss most about thier lives so far. To start the ball rolling, here are three from me. More to follow later I imagine. 1. I regret not having a camera with me so that I could have taken a picture of the sunset yesterday. It was amazing, and well worth the rain that followed. 2. I regret my actions following the break-up with my first girlfriend. I lost a lot of friends due to my excessive self-pity, and missed many oppurtunities to make new friends before I got over it. 3. I regret not having the guts to ask someone I met in college to go out with me-would it really have been so unbearable if she had of said no? It seemed so at the time. Now the chance is forever lost-barring an unforseeable incident of course. Exsanguis

Souls Without Names The fires of Hell burn bright, In the middle of the night, Waiting for an angel to fall, No hope of salvation at all. A poor lost soul, Is swallowed up whole, Consumed in the flames, They are souls without names. The fires are ablaze, In this fiendish maze, Consumed by shame, There is no one to blame. The fires are aglow, As you sink so low, The Devil has cast his spell, You face eternity in Hell.

The small group of people stood around the tree, watching the Keep for signs of M'avron's cat and discussing the note found on the tree limb. As they watched they saw a dark shape emerging from the keep and moving towards them. At first they believed it to be the returning cat, but as it drew closer they saw it was human. The figure was extremely unremarkable; the sort of person you see but forget thier appearance ten minutes after he has left. He also appeared to be walking strangly, as if he was unused to moving about. "Greetings my friends!" His voice was as unremarkable as his apearance. On his finger he bore a ring surrounded with butterflies. "I'm new to the Keep, but as I was settling in a strange man walked in, handed me a ring and gave me directions to this place! Would anyone care to..." The figure cut off as M'avron stepped out from behind Anneal's tree. "That's enough Xalthed!" M'avron's usually mild voice was stern now and his fellow companions looked between him and the stranger with confusion. The more cautious of them layed thier hands on thier various weapons. "Ah, M'avron. How pleasant to see you again." Despite the strangers words his face was twisted and his eyes looked angry. "You cannot decieve these people, brother. They will see through your disguises soon enough. Change back Now." As M'avron said the last word he pulled his Staff from his belt. The green gem at its tip blazed with energy and his golden eyes shone with inner fire. For a moment the stranger looked as if he was going to resist. His face took on a stubborn look and his arms raised as if to fight. Slowly M'avron lowered his Staff so that the gem was aimed at the newcomer. With a snarl of frustration the figures shape shimmered, flickered, and chaned. In it's place was a lean creature resembling a five-foot two-legged frog. The figures skin was a dappled grey, its fingers long and clawed. It's only clothing was a loincloth. In its hands it bore a staff that appeared to be formed from two arm bones blaced end to end, a human skull cradled in the hand at the top of the staff. The arms and skull were completely black and inscribed with many runes. M'avron lowered his Staff and turned to the rest of the group. "This is my blood brother, Exsanguis. I apologise for his deception, since he wont do so himself."

The pale angular face of Exsanguis took on a surprised cast as the unamed force detained him. Gathering his robes about himself he lowered his slight - six foot five frame into the indicated easy chair, his long slender fingers resting easily upon the chairs arms. Crossing his legs with a sigh of impatience a having to wait he idly ran a hand across the mohican spikes of his jet black hair, his dark red eyes watchful for any further people.

The high walls of the keep rose upwards towards the pale blue of the sky, seeming almost to be challenging the gods themselves with thier immensity and hieght. Inspite of his usual emotionless view of the world, Exsanguis couldn't help pausing to admire the structure. Mankind had built this? After his brief pause he continued on towards the gates. The steel doors and human eyes of the guards gave him no problems in mist form, though he counted himself lucky that his friend inside the keep has invited him in. It would have been a wasted trip otherwise. Swiftly he traversed the corridors of the keep, making sure to move out of the way of those he felt were powerful enough to spot him despite his form. It was surprising just how many there were. The small part of his mind that was forever plotting couldn't help thinking about the victories he could achieve if such power was his to command. Despite the needed detours Exsanguis eventually reached his destination-the rooms of the one called Wyvern. Upon reaching the door he checked to make sure there was no one nearby before changing from mist to human form. Carefully he reached out and tried to turn the handle, only to find it locked. Letting out a sigh of irritation he transformed again and slipped under the door. Briefly he resumed human form and placed a letter requesting living quarters upon the table, before leaving as a mist again.