An American Sonnet This is my land, this is your land. It is this land that I love. Oh how those sapphire mountains sing with their smoke. Every biome of nature is represented. From the jungles of Hawaii, to the Taigas of Alaska. This is the land where nature gave its most bounty. Where even the deadly Mojave inspires beauty. It is a land so beautiful that murder was committed in its aquisition. This is a land stained with the blood of countless. Where those first here were shot and tagged, where those forced to build it were beaten, where beauty is destroyed for profit. These are my hands, these are your hands, red with blood. Poem I don’t know how to write poetry, and I don’t know how to read it really. I don’t understand the lack of plot, I really don’t understand why they all just feel a lot I don’t get form over prose, I really don’t get not knowing which way the story goes. I really don’t like having to think about how every little thing is tied up in kinks. Why on ea...
That emotion filled Yami more than any time before, and his body was no longer constrained. He could finally express this emotion that he had never been taught the name of. He felt his heart beating faster than should be possible, a scorching heat, and his teeth grinding against each other. Rapidly, breaths entered and exited his mouth. A primal scream escaped the depths of his lungs, an entire short lifetime of repressed rage had been let loose. What Six saw was a volcano eruption so violent that the mountain itself exploded, sending infinitely hot lava in every direction. What Jin saw was a little boy with all hope ripped out of him. He was wearing nothing but shorts, and chains around his wrists, leaving exposed the numerous scars and gashes on his chest. Scars and gashes acquired from years of being ...
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