| Subject: The lanky ghost watches with a growing distaste, but says nothing, anxiously awaiting Paige to return. |
Author:
Planet
|
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Date Posted: 14:02:16 10/14/02 Mon
In reply to:
Juno (You-No Pronouced FYI)
's message, "~Watches, she stands her ground, not knowing wat to say~" on 07:11:18 10/14/02 Mon
>>
>>border=1 bordercolor=navy
>>style=border-collapse:collapse bgcolor=black>
>>bgcolor=silver height=10px colspan=2>
>>Andy's
>>Planet is no more.
>>valign=top>
>>size=1>
Someday
>s
>> I sit staring out the window, watching the world pass
>>me by.
>>Sometimes I think theres nothing to live for,
>>I almost break down and cry.
>>But then I see my baby, suddenly Im not crazy.
>>
It all makes sense when I look into her eyes.
>>If I could sing, Id keep singin this song to my
>>daughter.
If I could hit the notses Id blow
>>something as long as my father.
To show her how
>>proud I am that I got her.
God, Im a daddy, Im so
>>glad her mom didnt.
Now you probably get this
>>picture from my public persona that ima pistol packin
>>drug addict who bags on his momma
But I wanna to
>>just take this time out to be perfectly honest, cuz
>>theres a lot of shit I keep bottled up that hurts deep
>>inside.
I got my baby, baby the only lady that I
>>adore.
So sau
>>yonara, try tommorrow, nice to know ya.
Our baby s
>>traveled back to the arms of her rightful
>>owner.
And suddenly the weight has been
>>lifted......
>>color=silver face=verdana size=1>
>>
Erupting from a shadowed horizon, a flash of
>>stygian and char, mottled crisply upon the outer layer
>>of a bold phantom. What nightmares were made of; an
>>alysum grit brazen with the dexterious humanities of
>>bittersweet passion and nefariousness. Unexpectant of
>>any immediate of ameliorant, malicious alumna lances
>>forth across the ashen plantation; chizeled maw,
>>etched with stealth-like reformity of Arabic lineage,
>>immediatly searches for the hierarchy. Alma mater
>>located far away, the banshee still wished for return.
>> Though I wouldnt expect a lagniappe this time
>>around. Plyable physique lances forth with undaunting
>>agility, taut muscles acting puppeteer for the
>>mesmorizing vagabond. At last and long awaited, ashen
>>labyrums of the femmora parting with an echo of
>>soprano harpsicord; a mocking, eerie melody shrieking
>>inside flicking radars. She knew, all too well, that
>>her dear mother had come to pass....she knew as well,
>>that one attempted to take her place.
>>
>>
No, baby. Not on my watch.
>>
>>
The angels weaping tears of blood, sweat and
>>flesh, the mesmorizing transparancy lay in grit before
>>the others. Allegorical, mystical, and ever deadly,
>>not the innocent foal that had befallen on them, no.
>>She was different, scarred and broken, battered and
>>lost, but yet she still returned for more....
>>
>>
Dad. Andy. Who's
>>the broad. Juno? Juni? A bit peculiar, pop.
>>
>>
An unspoken snarl crossed the lips of the now
>>nefarious. Shits' been done, lives been shattered,
>>and she had meerely returned to pick up the pieces.
>>It was time to loose the malicia and return to the
>>life of a light. Erecting a reformed maw, the painted
>>translucent speaks again.
>>
>>
DegÜello died, Andy.
>>Perhaps if you had been around, around for me, around
>>for Deggy, around for Juni, our mother....
>>
>>
The words were spit into dust as the angel weeped
>>upon the groud, the lavish winter soaking any drop of
>>salted warmth as the equine blurted in a furious anger
>>and bitter resentment.
>>
>>
She wilted away as a rose.
>>Every day, waiting like a dog for you. A dog awaiting
>>his master at the door, with anxious eyes steadily
>>loosing hope. Is that what you saw us as? Is that
>>how you saw flower, too? A DOG...
>>
>>
The painted mug draws abrupt. Guilt would not
>>solve any problem here. Re-evaluating a long planned
>>speech, the femmora continues with a more placid
>>expression.
>>
>>
Im back now. Im here to
>>stay.
>>
>>
.:A bit of forewarning.:.
>>
.:Ive changed:. |
>>bgcolor=silver height=10px colspan=2>
>>face=verdana size=1>.Your baby's home. But
>>not for you.
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