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#1 |
Senior Member
Join Date: May 2019
Posts: 566
Battle Record: 7-5
Champed - Guerrilla Writing League
Rep Power: 5689709 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]() ![]() Predator and Prey "Predator & Prey" Malice & Scar Scar He stepped out of the element, from winters aggressive siege Inside, the faint velveteen voice of Anka claiming his Destiny* As rain and sleet fell unexpectedly on waning shrubs and leaves His domain was a homely lit hospice against the weight of the season Hobbies ranging from painting to baking to maintaining his demons Every evening he’d hear their screaming voices and cries Noises that drives him crazy; The fire flaming, disturbing his quiet haven. Poised though contrived He kept them captive. Chained up in silence, caged in a 5 x 5 containment, barely alive in his basement Some call it madness- perhaps a crime, but at least he can find The missing peace - of a fragile,feeble fractured mind. Malice Under the guise of a victim, she then became one herself She had spied her friend missing and she decided to help Dressed herself in alluring clothes, snowflakes intertwined In her hair and freckled face, he saw her and he inclined Barbarically silenced her with his advantage of stature He quickly snatched her, careful not to damage during the capture Robbed her of innocence, imprisoned her in one of the cages Textbook slave, wasn't envisioning, she had become one of the pages Scar they all sought that story book ending, Assorted looks, blending tears and mascara Pending fear; smeared across treks, whereas The eerie back-lot lent us drama, completing the illusion A somber tale jostling with uncertain conclusion It's usually the hook. There’s a science to sizing’em up Scenarios and presuppositions took into account before the violence erupts Outside, the skies’ letting up - then it begins.., "hey pretty eyes, what is up?" Malice She decided, victim she is not and said "Nothing much." Looked in his eyes, felt a rush but decided to blush Batt her lashes, needed his trust, to do this she must Pull the best stunt since Leonardo on that wood with the Dutch With her allure, became his favorite, her breath his inhale She got privileges she came to cherish in this little hell Moved from cages to satin sheets, from slave to the mistress The mind games limitless, once prey now a witness Scar There’s something different with this one. Per procedure, he’d scan for small ticks, Her podgy lips all but scarred bits of skin visibly missing “You’re looking jolly, miss” he insisted softly; grinning “Look what i bought you?” hinting on something grand. His hands were huge highways of scars and calluses And she studied him intently; his posture, practices As He unrolls the cloth to reveal an axe - its his Mannerism, The planning the prison, ids and egos, His breathing, she keenly denoted - deep and slow She conceded for show. She knew he needed control And she plan to use it to her advantage. She glanced up at the window the land still deep in snow
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I remember the poplar trees |
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