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Brought by the Storm (page2)Brought by the Storm
Failing to find either the storm walker or a valid witness, the councilors returned to the spot where they found the original witness and intended to release him; but he had vanished. They agreed to return home and forget about everything.
The reading room of Clifford Rogers
In his reading room in New York, archaeologist Clifford Rogers was studying a text given to him at his office in Smithsonian Institute, Washington, D.C. He was thoroughly engrossed in it until his young and charming wife and aide Puabi entered. She had been looking for him.
"Clifford! Beloved, there was a strange report on the television tonight."
"What was it about, darling," he asked, looking up into her small, tender face.
"Some town outside had a sudden storm. But moreover something strange emerged from the storm and apparently rampaged. Nobody was hurt but hardly anyone noticed."
"Hmmmm. You're right, darling. That sounds very odd indeed."
"Will we investigate it?"
"Only if they sum
The TomeThe Tome
Once upon a night so stormy
Which the rain fall seemed abnormal
And I had to remain indoors
I headed for my shelves of books
And down from them a tome I took
With many a detail from times of yore
It was garbed in dusky leather
And seemed to have been affected by the weather
So that I could barely read its lore
Upon the frontispiece of that tome I saw
A grimace I shall forget no more
And among its many dusty pages
Whose ink seemed to be erased by ages
I could make out some words there
At the bottom of the page was written
a strange and alien inscription
Which spoke of a forgotten place called R'yleh
What the queer phrase had said
Was that a fabled creature lay asleep or dead
In that strange and mystic place called R'yleh
Cthulhu R'yleh wgalnagh ftagn
Brought by the Storm (page 1)Brought by the Storm
The local meteorology office had recently predicted the storm that finally erupted, but the actual dimensions of the storm took even them aback. Granted nobody can know everything; but the office had predicted something like a simple summer downpour. What eventually erupted over the town limits was beyond their imaginations. But the storm itself was only one part of the strange story.
Someone, somewhere, who witnesses or is caught in this type of storm is bound to report strange sightings. So, one late afternoon, when a team of town councilors headed around in a van to look about the town, they discovered a resident literally bound to a lamp post who seemingly babbled indecipherably about something the storm had brought or awakened. Nobody knew how the townsman had hot tied to the post despite the weather. Nor could anyone understand what he babbled.
He mumbled fearfully about some gigantic thing that stalked out amidst the weather, from "god alone knows whe
No Fury Like WomanNo Fury Like Woman
No man alive can play dumb
Why the weather bureau gives a woman's name
To a tropical storm
When eventually either comes
She is a raging tempest
Bound to wreck his home
The storm bears woman's fury
And the man must leave them in a hurry
But I stay calm
No storm has the name Puabi
"Please come and rest with Puabi, beloved."
Dictated by Puabi
Caught in my heart
After so long
Words of warning
To those who went afar
To conquer and to die
Words of prayer
To those high above
To ask for hope
Words of thanks
For hearing my prayer
For giving me more than hope
For sending one to love
To heal this heart
Felt in heart
Released by love
July 24 RainJuly 24 Rain
Tonight the rain cascaded round
Its voice like soft laughter
Then I looked beside me
On the bed
And her soft laughter was like the rain
The heaven may cry or it may laugh
Like the one I love
She was made there for me
She reflects all there is above
Rising Like SmokeRising Like Smoke
Darkness rose from seemingly nowhere like smoke
From the junction of the backstreet and Darkwood Road in municipal Arkham, Massachusetts, where most residents believed to be uninhibited, the darkness suddenly and mysteriously rose like a heavy blanket of smoke from an enormous bonfire. In fact, there was neither fire nor smoke; but someone or something was summoning the darkness. To be exact, the residents were too scared to investigate the junction, fearing very dark evil. There was a rumor that someone was reading from the black book.
"I swear to ya, someone has got that black book "Necronomicon"."
"You may be right. Darkness don't rise like smoke from anywhere."
They were both right, actually. Someone hid in the backstreet and recited something from Necronomicon to create that darkness. That happened at 5 pm, hours before real darkness fell. Eventually, when real darkness came, it mingled with the spell. Everyone in that side of the town locked door and
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
DethronedI have created Eden, through the strokes of my pen,
But it was made of promises, and angels
That were too fragile to hold the weight of our sins.
You were my goddess, on a throne made of dreams.
Which you were probably
They didn't glimmer and shine
like the diamonds decorating your rings.
They were the hopes of a man
So madly in love, but you poured poison into his heart
And so he rotted, each time you gifted him with a kiss.
DifferentDifferent on the outside,
Different mask you see daily,
Different girl you call ‘Hailey’
To my surprise
Your ears are distracted,
So I tell lies, looking into your eyes,
“Yea I’m fine. Simply tired”
For that response my brain is wired.
Different mouth you hear speaking,
Different voice you hear screaming
Different eyes you see pleading,
Different person you’d befriended
I’m sorry this is how it’s ended.
Abuse Is Sometimes NecessaryPush and pull at her long hair, topple her to the solid ground,
elbow her sharply in the raw gut, shove her harshly around.
Scratch him in the pale face, punch him in the broken jaw,
do anything necessary to him that's considered breaking the law.
And when she cries because you've punched her, let her be,
and observe her when she returns to her habitual smoking.
When she passes out next day, because she's drunken too much booze,
slap her in the face once more, though many would consider it abuse.
When he can hardly walk because he thinks he's high in the clouds,
rip the needle out of his arm, and with your nails, slash him across the sweaty brow.
Grab them and shake them till their battered and bruised,
tear at their heart, scream in their ears until you've reached the point of verbal abuse.
And when she falls into your chest, and he collapses to the ground,
pull them closely, and whisper, “We can turn this all around.”
And rehab is a necessity for all of you, because you'v
No Coffee is Sweet Without YouNo Coffee is Sweet Without You
"In the Name of Love"
Hazelnut in my cappuccino
Caramel in mocha too
But I can only think
That if the coffee is sweet
It is because I have you
I have tasted many cups before
Can I say that I enjoyed them all?
I finished each one
Because I felt it was what I should do
But if I said they were sweet
It may be untrue
If my coffee is sweet
It is because I have you
The Panic Room (A Supernatural One-Shot)“Dean…? Dean?”
The name felt like lead on Sam’s tongue, so thick and heavy that he wasn’t sure if the syllable had actually made it past his lips.
The only reason he was aware of something cutting into his neck was the trail of red that was marking a small pathway against the stark fabric of his shirt. The dark suit and tie that usually accompanied the white-collared look were missing, but he couldn’t remember why.
His brother’s name seemed to drop soundlessly into the dark space before him. Everything felt heavy. Dull. Maybe he was dreaming.
But dreams shouldn’t smell of dust and abandonment. They shouldn’t be framed by cobwebs and wallpaper so aged that their floral design has faded into funeral bouquets. They shouldn’t have flickering candlelight and robed figures looking down on you.
No, dreams shouldn’t be like that.
But Winchesters don’t have dreams. They have nightmares. Sam smile
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