Blizz-Kid

Chapter 1 Violet crouched behind the crate in the corner of the room. The torchlight danced on her charcoal grey skin, reflecting only off the slight sheen of sweat on her brow. Her grip was wet, though tight around the bone handle of the bow she carried. A quiver of wooden arrows, slick with alchemical silver sheen hung at her side, the shafts held together with loose twine for stealth. Her dark eyes tracked the movement of the lesser demon that occupied this chamber. It's claws rasped against the stone floor as it moved, and she used the sound to muffle her breathing, keeping time with its pace. At any moment, she feared, it would catch h

All stones have been but stepping On the path to River cross'd Our toes now soaked with dexterousness Our hair unkempt and toss'd The River is a rocky bed That can't be lightly leapt And tears that fill its widest banks Are left by those who've wept We stepped from rock to per'lous rock Our footing, learning-sure In hopes that firmer, softer ground We'd find as River's cure And when we reach the holy bank We feel the solid ground Our hearts are filled with certainty At the balance that we've found As blades of earn'd morning grass Peeks up between our toes, We raise our hearts' now clearer eyes And the soul that sees you, knows. All life

Travelling along a sand dusted road, with the chilled night air in my face, My nose caught the wafting drafts of marijuana, When suddenly, in front of me, a ways off, the was some faint illumination. I had felt trouble keeping my head up any longer, and my vision had blurred; I could not continue my travel this evening. A female figure was standing between the outside and the in, And there was a sound like the ringing of a church bell. I began to consider the implications of the scene before me, Thinking that it may be my salvation or my damnation. Before I decided, she pulled a match and pressed it to the wick of tapered wax And gu

I'm walking on the sidewalk at night. It's winter, and snow is covering everything. I've been walking in silence, alone with my thoughts. I've been watching my feet, paying attention only to that. The snow, I feel, is soft under my foot, but it crunches. It's clean, though trodden. Cold air presses itself against my face, and I can't feel the tip of my nose. The sky is dark blue, and the street lamps make it glow orange twenty feet up. Beyond that, it's only the dark blue. Beside me are trees, leafless and dead looking. Their branches reach into the sky, beyond the lamp glow, and they are still. There is no wind, just cold, and I can hear rav

Do you think it’s because I logically decided That I had calculated my situation And come to the conclusion that Mathematically, and scientifically It made sense, and was practical, efficient, Or somehow, the most sensible solution? Don’t ever fool yourself into thinking It was philosophy that made me fall in love. It was you.

The pleasant green likes to pretend As it bows reverently to whispered wind And ignore the red that bathed its soil And spoke of war, and not of toil As if it somehow grass were to blame For seeing man, they surely came And trod upon, with hateful clash The emerald life, that with a splash Became a sea of red. Today, the waves of bending grass Admit to none their shameful past, Pretending always all is green, Refusing eyes their bloody soil seen.