~*Hell Is My Den, yet Its Fire Does Not Touch Me*~ -- Battle Cliff

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Date Posted: 18:06:23 10/25/02 Fri
Author: Blazin' Black Fire
Subject: ~*Hell Is My Den, yet Its Fire Does Not Touch Me*~

regal siren struts in.
battle-scarred canvas glitters
with fresh scaths o' past not long 'go.
threads toss vividly,
revealing scars long since seen
by the mortal eye.
on right side o' collor,
under tresses hidin' it,
sets a livily scar, known far an' wide
by humans as that o' a rope.
yet its broken end has long since slipped
fro' 'is arch and it sets cear, yet graying
as hair continoues t' grow.
snort echoes from nares in disgust.
the fights o' these ones seem weak:
lacking his kindof touch.
the touch o' Rage.
crown harks welkin-ward an'
icy globes peer from 'neath raven threads.
surge fills he, excitment as he watcheth th'
'ther brutes fight.
but nay a reason he needs,
just a oppent to help him
dispose o' his energy.
titan breaks fo' heaven-
a Hell o' greater to him-
reaching one would think an inpossible hight
fo' even one o' his mass o' 16 high.
scream tears a' mountians,
making them shudder, as if in great
fear o' the beast for which pounds them
t' dust and cracks their cliffs wit' his mighty call.
its the call t' his first Victim o' these lands.

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Replies:

[> *Emergancy call 911, she's pissed off at everyone. Police rescue FBI she wants a riot....* -- Charlotte, 10:29:07 10/31/02 Thu

...Not..As..Good..As..You..Think...

Deathly whicker is emited as a 18hh body slams into the steed's un-noticing body. Femme backs up and snorts. He had been taken over by humans? Ha! He returned with scars. How many years had he been with the two leggers? Probably only for a few. Her.. She had been with them for most of her life. She was used for fighting and breeding. Alas, she never showed her prime. No scars were on this high-gloss bod. The Draft reared high, front hammers landing on the steed's back. She pulls her overly-large body off his back and backs up. She snorts heavily. True, she had just finished battling another femme... But she had enough energy for a battle with a... "pouser".*You fire has burned out, Blaze. You shall loose you next battle like you have done so many other times... You Pouser..* the mare growled.

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[> [> ~*Death Is a Gift I Give The Damned*~ -- Blaze, 18:33:35 11/01/02 Fri

color=darkblue>~*The Only Thing you Have to Fear, is Your Death, and it Has Arrived*~

morbid siren turns an' mask
darkens t' spitfire.
quick move placed stag 'way from
fatale's stinging pounders hit
nothing but sod as bronc swiftly evacuates
seating a' post.
snort echoe's fro' nares an'
crown shaken is disgust.
auds pin, yet release as
she speaks her share.
smirk smudges features an'
titan ignores she,
for her being a femme thy
Beings were not likely t'
try her a' thy hissing snares
which rip thy canvas t' shards
like glass from a window.
my Fire is one that never will
die, for even as my last breaths
will be taken, my Legacy lives on
an' will finish any buisness i have not.
stud snorts a' she and cloak
flicks in annoyance an'
cobalt chasms reflect neon
as he watches for more worthy
apponants, for nay would
he fight a fatale,
for his blood-lust did not exceed t' that.

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[> [> [> *Learn to close ur damn html* -- Charlotte, 15:46:44 11/02/02 Sat

*Femme looks at the weak stallion.*You are no stallion. You are no evil. You are to afriad to fight a femme. If you were of true blood, you would fight me.* Chica swivels on haunches and retreats to her home. There was no one of worth to fight with....

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[> [> [> [> ~*I Never Apologize, for I Regret Nothing I do*~ -- Blaze, 09:04:52 11/03/02 Sun

siren watches 'er leave,
then turns back t'
set an' waits for a foe.

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[> [> [> [> [> Interesting Conversation -- Shetan, 13:25:22 11/03/02 Sun

Even if you would have fought her no prize would come to either of you. You know when best to stand down, and for that, I respect you. You are already gaining authority. He nods to the other stallion and goes back to the villude.

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[> [> [> [> [> [> ~*Respect is Given Only to the Worthy Ones*~ -- Blaze, 17:33:21 11/03/02 Sun

stag listens t' 'ther wit'
regard o' him little,
yet words sink an'
crumble in black sea floor.
smirk plays on lubes an'
boa arches a' poll.
he nods an' again straightens in wait.

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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> *Close ur damn tags!!!!!!!* -- some1, 08:17:07 11/04/02 Mon

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[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> oops -- funky soup, 17:13:28 11/04/02 Mon

>

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