《Red Rose》 Snow White I¡¯m a virgin, white as snow, I don¡¯t know anything, but what¡¯s allowed to flow, I¡¯m a faucet, people turn me on, a safe place, To put water in, not even as great, as Anna or Tanya, This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Just at step one, what can I do for you, I should try to get higher, but I¡¯m just at level one, Where we going, why aren¡¯t we there yet, I spend as much money, as I can, but reality is costly, I¡¯ll try as best as I can, I only understand, Basic things, I like to run away, and spend god¡¯s money, I¡¯m not even, as good as a fishy, So small, just a few inches, This whole time, I¡¯ve just been dreaming, Not even able to really touch anything¡­ Waving Flag All motivation is false, it¡¯s just what the heavens whisper in your ear, for you to do what you need to do, for the person you want to be, and beyond that, it¡¯s also bullshit, as people, we can fall so deep into the abyss, the heavens don¡¯t care if you drown or walk into the sun, burned to cinders, ashes for your shame and for your crime, all they want is for you to dance, to scream it out, your plight, how the heavens have abandoned us, alone in the garden of Eden, to pluck fruits and make sure virgins are eaten, we''re just a bunch of snakes and frogs in a boiling pot, we don¡¯t let others climb out and we beckon for others to join us, the fruit passes, the apple of our eyes, unfortunately we are men, such dumb beasts, it doesn¡¯t take much for us to bite, hunger and discipline, for those who dare to fight, alas, eternity after eternity, you and your daughter¡¯s panties, it¡¯s just a matter of time¡­ If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Raising the Dead Grief, how we¡¯re all doomed to die, how we struggle and bargain with it, hoping for life, how for most humanity¡¯s history, ignorance has been a major factor, and how most of the time it¡¯s a bitter fight to survive, as a poet I''m enchanted by the words I write, but all around me are problems and I ignore their plight, money is dwindling, my parents are aging, I''m worried for my sisters and their education, my puppies, why do they have such short lives, if I was aware and mentally able I would try to be proactive and protect those close to me with all that I can, so much effort and I¡¯m willing, but it¡¯s part of being a man, alas, my illness consumes me, my addiction to poetry, the moon in the sky, she whispers in my ears and I cry, a willing slave, yearning to serve her over and over again, all this poetry are nails in my coffin, they¡¯ll seal me to my grave, I came and I went, at hell¡¯s gates I whisper and I pray, may I taste it again? 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Battle Gongs Filipinos and the age of the soul, the West extends but my soul went East, not something that I can change, hoping to be pulled into the abyss, but everything on my character sheet, the spirit that fills my cup, I cannot change it, another cock in the tribe, we''re butchers and fisherman, hunters and trappers, we''d be heroes if we can, such old souls echo with our drums and our gongs, under god we have each other, and when we¡¯re in need, we do what we can, our people are such friendly men, it¡¯s in our nature to be understanding, and to have trust in our family, because that¡¯s what we grew up with, faith in our love and our friendship, we used to know all our neighbors, so many relationships we¡¯ve built, families immigrate and we send back what money we can, I guess my intent was to track the flow of the spirit, so much contained in a person, it¡¯s natural to be attracted to what¡¯s not them, go West under the moon and the sun, such a bountiful place but the values are so different, demons and ghosts run rampant, Jesus Christ, but we¡¯re willing to serve, we¡¯ll do what we can for our wine and our bread, so many young spirits in need of education, so many damaged souls in need healing, and so many don¡¯t understand their own heartbeats, if the spirits flows outward they¡¯ll be doomed to grow, but stable steps make a solid foundation, we came and we saw, and I¡¯m warning you, the princess and the pea, don¡¯t commit to something if you don¡¯t understand the price of it, it may follow you to another life, but I guess baby goth pussy tastes great, so many are such clean slates, heaven defiled, do what you can, coal, iron and fire, Rhea watching from above, so many cocks dancing, we may make warriors of you yet¡­ The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Equal Under Heaven Wealth is just a delusion, the West extends, the abyss goes deep, and equality echoes across the people, no matter who you are or what star you¡¯re under, balance can be found, the South has their goats, willing to do anything to win, there are tigers in the forests, defending all that belongs to them, lions and wolves on the plains, and all the relationships they¡¯ve built, willing to defend their families with all they can, even the axolotls, the dung beetles, and the butterflies, the foxes, the cocks and their hens, even the sheep have Christ, and I¡¯m telling you this, if you¡¯re ever found out of heaven¡¯s favour, and the moon turns away from you, you¡¯re doomed either way, and nothing can save you, doomed to be the food before a willing slave, it¡¯s humiliating work, so much shame in my veins, but it can¡¯t be denied, we get fed¡­ If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Please God They put me on Quetiapine, it really stabilized my mood, but my edge is gone, no fire under my ass, just laziness and contentment, maybe this whole time it was the Risperidone speaking, that would be hilarious, the hint of it in the air, so much magick, I won¡¯t hesitate to pass the blame, Shaggy, it wasn¡¯t me, it was the drugs, so much shame and guilt in what I''ve written, I''m actually quite a stand-up person in reality, but damn, I''m a beast of the night, and when the moon calls, can a puppet deny the strings attached to it, you may think it¡¯s easy to fight or deny, but blood flows through my veins, and it¡¯s in my DNA unfortunately, this whole thing started out seriously, but then I started satisfying whimsy, making jokes, great spirit in the sky, she was leading me somewhere, and I¡¯m not so dense as to not get the hint of where she¡¯s driving these poems, sex and satisfaction, personally I simply want to explore the mind, and yes I may have been more eager than necessary, a bit blunt for a poet, but that¡¯s who I am, anyways, I think I wrote it before, these poems echoed out before I got here, the river flows, and I found myself here, you don¡¯t understand the delicate control the heavens have on me, or how they raised my beliefs from the ground up, and educated me with so many delusions, so many breakdowns, it¡¯s not been an easy life, a struggle and a fight for a lot of it, but maybe I lost my virginity, and these poems are worth something, whatever, but I¡¯ll say this now, I¡¯d rather not do it again¡­ This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Soul Capture How a lady grows her power, she captures the hearts of men, make them unable to think of anything else, the heavens opening a door, you enter a dreamscape, you and your lover are there and you get married, you dream of a whole life together, and you taste her again and again, the sweetness, the tinge of salt of her flesh, you came and you went, you wake up and get breakfast, she''s your server again, bacon and eggs, over easy, dreaming of the smell between her legs, you want to ask her out, but there¡¯s never quite a good chance, and why would she say yes, when you slave over her vision, she already has your soul in her hands, why would she do anything else¡­ This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. What Happens in the Garden Honey in a jar, all that¡¯s contained in a universe, the people and ideas we interact with, their interests, all that¡¯s in the same room, or on the game-board, We interact with so much, Of course the world exists outside of us, But we live in a jar, Alpha and Omega watching over us, Your mother wants you to sin as much as you can, in the garden of Eden, to take anything you want from it, Your father waits, and he intends to punish you for it, Because the moon is his bitch, Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The more you yearn, the more she¡¯s on her knees, sucking his dick, Anyways, the stars in the sky, so many deities, all the legends people dared to dream, Helen of Troy and Lilith, Science and technology, Galactic civilizations and starships, So much knowledge that¡¯s already there, and so many languages to speak, The occult and practitioners of dark magick, Gang violence and underworld deals, So much exists outside of your understanding, But in truth it¡¯s just part of the garden, Earth 838, copied and pasted to fit, When you¡¯re in a box, anything is real, so much magick in the air, This is a deep sorcery, but to understand it you¡¯ll have to be let in, So many gatekeepers, and the outliers waiting outside of it, It is the moon who rules all magick, As men, there¡¯s no way to really understand the rules behind it, Maybe scientific research and the order of operations, mathematics, When everything is a number you can map out all of it, But do you have the freedom for it, Bite the fruit, you¡¯re immortal, and you can do anything, But Alpha and Omega are your wardens, Is it freedom or a prison, They fill your cup and they measure, The garden of Eden, heaven or hell, what will become of it? Trickling Stream Chip implants, Alpha in control of the past and the future, origin stories, rivers and roads, and backdoors to the matrix, or how a person programs a different world, maybe chaos architecture, How everything is on VHS, and how ant men, man o¡¯ war, IT professionals, rule the world, God exists in many ways and I assure you, a part of him is a nerdy voyeur, recording everything, The matrix goes so deep, and so much exists, what anyone could dare to think, Fishermen, Omega and her chess pieces, doing her bidding, the moon, soldiers serving the queen, to pull more sinners into the abyss, Following the world story, lessons of the day, and what I¡¯m able to connect with, the river flows in so many directions, and there¡¯s so many fish, so many ideas in the abyss, The river of ideas flowing through the world, the many eternities and aspects of a life, maybe the roles we¡¯re meant to play, being there for other people as the person they need you to be, If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. 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The closest thing to a connection, or to relevance, or a dream fulfilled, How god is in everything, how everyone was born young and innocent, and how it¡¯s arranged to help your younger self, How when you punch someone in the face, you¡¯re really punching yourself, How god is still with us no matter how young or experienced we are, good or evil, he finds a way to exist and how his glory shines in all of his creation, How we¡¯re in a jar, and how we shouldn¡¯t look down on people, Jesus, Tupac Shakur, and all the gravekeepers, How everything has been done, and the heavens already know the correct answer, and how it all follows a logical sequence, so many numbers, the universe, ingrained in mathematics, Blasphemy, a worm wriggling, not really knowing what I¡¯m saying, a poet making a joke, and wondering what happened to the sex, how it doesn¡¯t ever have to be so serious, and how everything can be contained in a joke, or in the eyes of someone innocent, summed up to a silly experience, If god was good, and what it means to be family, and vampirism, and how we earn the food we eat, a universe sustaining itself, and expanding, Earth 838, red moon in the sky, Wolves howl, Elizabeth Olsen¡­ Bloodflow Ultimately, it¡¯s pointless to believe anything, or change anyone, at most you can help them discover themselves, or the sort of pussy they like to eat, but in the end that¡¯s who they were, the way they were built, we dance and we rebel, a sad reflection of my younger self, but in the end it was just blood, it flowed through my veins, spirits filled my cup, and it was who I was, our beliefs only last until we get we want, our desires satisfied, we nut and we leave, we did what we intended, it was all we needed, and there¡¯s no point in holding on, lives like grass, death and transformations, changing with the seasons, as quickly as the phases of the moon, maybe it¡¯s the Quetiapine, but my desires are dwindling, my mood stabilizing, what¡¯s the point of poetry, without your anxiety, or your heartbeat, your vulnerability, opening up your heart to get stabbed again and again, pain is a wonderful thing, so is starvation and desperation, all sorts of hunger, being buried under a mountain, it seeks and it yearns, so much work, please, lord god, let my blood flow, let it find satisfaction in a poem, but alas, why write, when I don¡¯t believe anything anymore¡­ Enjoying this book? 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Faithful Softness is such a wonderful thing for a person, unsure if I''m deserving, but open and accepting, grace from the heavens, a soft pillow to lay your head, forget your worries, pain, hunger, and torment, they don¡¯t exist, there is only love, the softness of your mother¡¯s breasts, safety, a baby cradle, soft breeze in the air, the world functions either way, but it¡¯s something you don¡¯t have to worry about today, rest as seasons pass, spring, summer, fall, rest your eyes, shadows and ghosts, lullabies, there¡¯s no such thing as problems, fall asleep, the caress of a violin, there¡¯s only dreams, a story in the air, water flowing, a trickling stream, breathe it in, shame and comfort, no need to worry, savor the taste of it, trust and faith, say grace, smells like heaven, praying, please save my soul, thank you lord, for this daily bread, a snake slithering, a bite, a cherry popping, juices flowing, a flower blooming¡­ You might be reading a pirated copy. 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Prayers I''m deplorable, is there any grace for a person like me, doomed to go to hell, to feed on the flowers in the valley, is there a way out for a snake slithering, plant a seed, say your prayers, and try to make your exit, the moon laughs, your soul in her hands, she beckons, you bend your knees, ready to serve, anything for my queen, just a corpse, infested with worms, all this poetry, and I''m wondering, is there a safe way through, for a good man, or as you walk through the valley of the shadow of death, drinking from the everlasting spring, are you doomed to be infected, no matter who you are, more, please god, so much love, and I want more, fill my cup and flood the world, so many demons and ghosts, soft breasts and mother¡¯s milk, the moonlight, life is so difficult, let¡¯s relax, here, have a drink, already at hell¡¯s gates, savoring the taste, the flow of spirits, so much relief, maybe stand, stretch your legs, above you, a heavy price waits, your doom and your fate, the sword of Damocles, yearning and aching, your father waits, open your mouth and let him, god save my soul, accept him in your life, so much shame, only in the shadows, it¡¯s just a dream, the taste of flesh, I¡¯ve eaten so much, soft and plump, the sun shines, death, walking around and considering, are words real, can you see me, am I burning? This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. The Body is a Temple Is there no such thing as a virgin, the river flows, you find completion, it¡¯s normal, looking back, it was just an experience, looking to the world, hoping for problems, to resolve them, did you want to solve world hunger, earn money, earn food, just going through the motions, tokens of respect, anything at the market, the food court, so many options, eat what you want, and make sure to pay for it, life, love, and journeys, what was it worth, just words, always dreaming of faeries, the moon smiles, she beckons and she whispers, did you think of me? Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Persephone I need a reality check, where these words have taken me, I have no idea, so many shadows and dreams, shame and fantasy, as a person it¡¯s quite blasphemous, something that should be hidden, not posted on the internet, what a terrible force, this river of spirits, so many dreams and stories weave through these words, they went to outer space, and they learned how to use swords and magick, they rose the dead, and they satisfied demons, but I''m just a man, when the sun shines, I''m at most a poet, I happen to be running out of money, and I have so much debt, alas, maybe it¡¯s the price, for serving the moon, her soft breasts, and making a willing lady wet, there¡¯s two sides to these poems, a push and a pull, the edge and education, a mind¡¯s exploration, and there¡¯s an acceptance, a yearning and a satisfaction, a softness, a string unraveling, her sundress falls, she says she doesn¡¯t care, she whispers sweet words, tempting me, shut up, she says, and just make love to me, naked under the light, shadows and the sweetness of life, the holy maiden, she beckons and she calls, you just can¡¯t say no, try as you might, the mountains and the valleys, climb, all the way inside, pray to the heavens, and satisfy a life, push, softly, into the wetness of the garden, rainfall and love, it hurts and it bites, a bloody flower, six feet under, the river flows, where am I, I¡¯m sorry sir, you died, consequences, and the price... 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Watering the Plants The moonlight will doom us all, so pure and innocent, it beckons to your soul, protect her, around the corner, so many shadows, so many pieces of her, partaken, each beast of the night, with a bitch to love, as they wish, rape, fire, fight or flight, the depths of your soul, loves her with everything you have and all that you know, spiders weaving webs, in each crack in the valley, where a lily can sprout, it has, waiting for you to pluck it, the act, the beginning of your doom, this whole time we were everlasting fruit, eternities pass, and each time, we¡¯re eaten, pulled along by string, and dreams of something real, in the end, it was the smoke after the combustion, your father, he already ate her, savored each part, your love and lust, fueling the fire, all your fantasies and desires, like fruit plucked from a tree, pulled along and cultivated, full of your feelings, she looks up and says thank you, please father, consume me, a plump fruit, a willing virgin, all you yearn for, plucked and eaten, ravaged raw, a bitch in heat, slobbering on her tits, this whole time you were in your mom¡¯s basement, just dreaming of true love, and a relationship lasting, if you asked her she would smile, no one satisfies her like her daddy, okay, that¡¯s time, reality check, I have a job interview tomorrow, a test on Friday, I wonder if I passed today, consequences would be easier, yearning to be a dead poet, hoping for a chord cutting, please god, I bow my head and pray, just a servant working, a place in hell, just for me, don¡¯t be bitter, we do what we have to, try and yearn as we might, we¡¯re just people, hoping to die, the culmination of our desires, a life satisfied¡­ This story is posted elsewhere by the author. 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Passing Seasons Spells backfiring, does the truth not echo, does everything not happen according to science, to sequence and mathematics, but what if it shifted, the truth twisted into what it could be, what if you were this, your dick bigger by a few inches, if you weren¡¯t a coward, a passing flower, if you dared to claim her, alone in a room, the law of probability, the nature of a human, or is it a prison, a grand architecture, deciding you''ll never touch her, am I yearning, I don¡¯t quite know, a hero on a quest, at the starting village, he doesn¡¯t quite know what he lives for, the river flows in many directions, and I¡¯m of the opinion, that all I really want is peace and death, honey in a jar, so many demons in hell, incorrect answers and wrong turns, if you loved them you would satisfy their spirit, copied and pasted, a never-ending dream, maybe the world is a grave and we¡¯ve all made our peace, but the water ripples, the earth quakes, a hero looking to solve a problem, it couldn¡¯t be me, I don¡¯t even dare to fight a goblin, so close to Halloween, the veil is thin, my cup is waiting, a new moon, and a new season, the new year waiting on the horizon, the river flows, and there¡¯s probably a natural conclusion, so many plot points, a nest by the river, and the world¡¯s story, what happens anyways, because we live here, the earth bore our burden, the water goes deep, ripple and shake, the consequences, the price, I don¡¯t see the need, but I¡¯ll pay what I can, there''s so many ghosts in this snake den, in the end it¡¯s not my story, moon in the sky, I¡¯m just a puppet dancing¡­ This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Low-Hanging Fruit There¡¯s no point to suicide, or seeking death, no matter what, we''ll exist in god''s memory, a copy, a template, at most it would excite the senses, blood rushing, peace and death waiting, a demon tempting you to do it, he¡¯s just wondering if he can, but it¡¯s pointless, everlasting fruit, you¡¯re immortal, doomed to live, and doomed to love, you earnest wish, your yearning and dreams, waiting to be satisfied, the branch extends and bears a fruit, do you feel sad, angry or rebellious, is this meaningless, brothers and sisters, it¡¯s pretty depressing, but maybe god loves you, the fruit, glistening with sweat, she¡¯s waiting, and she smells, are you hungry, don¡¯t think, are you hard yet, a mushroom tip, maybe just kiss it, wondering if there¡¯s good in the world, work and effort, wondering if it¡¯s worth it, do I just want to eat, or grow and cultivate, she¡¯s getting impatient, it¡¯s called one shot, Nike, just do it¡­ Royal Road is the home of this novel. 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The Ocean Depths Servitude, it¡¯s all I have left, after all the journeys, the sex, the mental gymnastics, there''s no grand purpose, or reason to save the world, god is infinite, and you can get anything at the market, according to science and sequence, but when the heavens call, all work is good, and all effort is rewarded, for a child, for a demon, your daughter yearning, all desire, deserves fulfillment, between the lines, the devil measuring, who we want to be, or a slave hungering for meat, a beast and his honesty, as a person I like a challenge, and I¡¯m quite a sharp tool, mentally, living to serve, and slay armies, my priority is always the journey, and the idea of progression, but maybe it¡¯s all bullshit, this whole time, good or evil, maybe it didn¡¯t matter, and I should have just settled by the river, make my nest, and satisfy my daughter, a push and a pull, why believe in anything, when you already have it, sweet, wet, satisfaction¡­ If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Stake When your heart pumps, is it the same for anyone, Alpha and Omega dancing, Just puppets on a string, Going through the motions, Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Satisfying as many impulses, As a person can, So many dreams in the air, So much magick, All this yearning and desire, Someone has to satisfy them, As a poet I''m an exorcist, I purify these ghosts, So many demons, How many linger, After you''ve fucked your daughter, Words like blades in your heart, Look deep inside, So soft and wet, Do you actually want it? Storm God''s wrath is heavy, and ever-present, for every sinner, anyone, who''s bitten the fruit, anyone, who isn¡¯t willfully ignorant, it feels like I''ve woken from a long dream, no, I''d rather not eat if I can help it, so much fruit walking around, and I''d rather pass the ball, god willing, if it can save me, but my eyes opened and all around me was ravaged fruit, bitten and torn apart mercilessly, blood and juice splattered across the walls, seeds scattered all over the earth, the heavens and their womb, safely inside, black heron peaking out, so much sin, we¡¯re doomed¡­ Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Wearing Red The heavens offered themselves to us, the sun and the moon, her soft flesh, a bucket of chicken, we will always be ignorant, as humans, as beasts, hungry ghosts and spirits, we did what was natural, we consumed, the heavens fueling the day, eat and partake, so much life to live, the waves push forward, on the horizon, the year of the snake, living onwards in god¡¯s memory, each checkmate, so much bread and lamb, so many virgins eaten, the heavens remember, we can only do our part, extend the branch, blood on the walls, hope heaven¡¯s wrath passes over, the river drenched in blood, we are children, but what have we done, the weight of responsibility, an apathetic poet, fueled by fear, hiding within the realm of possibility, please god, give me peace, all we''ve eaten, our history, broken-head, lifeless puppet, avoiding what he can, so many lead to slaughter, always passing, duck, duck, goose, a spider approaches, so many spirits, our death is sealed, so much sacrifice, and burning demons, hell waits for us, lord knows, we¡¯ll have to pay for all of it¡­ Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. 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Eating my Tail This whole life, it''s merely the process of digestion, closer to beasts than the heavens, and never greater than the world, just a plant that has been nurtured, to bear a fruit, a moment later, so many feelings, it has matured, and as we speak, it¡¯s already being eaten, so many eternities, reborn, only to discover I''m a virgin, consumed each life, an eternal fruit, conflicted with my own disease, and all my delusions, they bore so much life, so many emotions, decay and death, hope and entropy, we can live all sorts of life, but checkmate after checkmate, we¡¯ll still be in a prison, bound by DNA, and contracts in the sand, a willful poet, and a tarot reader, he spoke so much crap, so arrogant, he can only be a fool, dreaming of the impossible, yearning for love and heaven, something real, maybe evolution, so many dreams, and so much death, his blood, splattered on the walls, and tainting his prison, did he really think he could escape, that he could consume a virgin, all that he was good for, already dead, just a fruit, that the heavens continue eating¡­ Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Looking at the Stars Everyone, alone in their room, so many lives, all records of a life a god dared to live, so much greatness to be found in each of us, bear the world or let it go, always just right, within this jar, the right formula, for a life fulfilled, looking down on others, everywhere I look, is a deity who looked at me, recorded their opinion, and left, not caring, so many deep wells, I don¡¯t dare to peak, each a universe, with their own personality, dreams and defenses, so many great beasts, and ingenious spirits, I''m just a turtle in my shell, maybe one day a great spirit will rouse me from my sleep, I¡¯ll explore dialogue options, and discover who I could have been, alas I¡¯m just a poor poet, filled with ghosts and spirits, a puppet on a string, for the heavens, and the stars in the sky, I don¡¯t like it, but there is still life to live, only content to move as designed, bearing sin, content with my prison, and not really daring to dream, so many delusions, and so many diseases, what does a universe need, just to earn his food, pay, and eat¡­ Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Angel Egg If it seems nice, it¡¯s only because it could be, within the realm of possibility, for what¡¯s allowed to be, so many perspectives, all different, viewing the same thing, it is what it is, because it can be, within it all, god waits and he allows it to be, measured and weighed, sequence, as a poet, I can¡¯t really decode anything, and maybe when something is sinful it¡¯s obvious, not really something you want to let in, in some dark room where there¡¯s everything, what a terrifying thing, do you dare to peak, no seals or denial, broken-head, some sort of open door, that wishes to live in peace, with so many things, what found this place in the abyss, a small cleverness, a human instinct, a person defending, but there¡¯s so much in the world, and in each moment, a poet always looking up, maybe I¡¯ll always be beneath¡­ A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Travel-Worn Paths Pok¨¦mon research is a real thing, so many intelligent people looking at the same thing, so many things can exist, and life exists in many ways, so many of these wells are deep, and if you dare to look down, there¡¯s likely a trap waiting, and someone guarding the gate, grave-keeping, it¡¯s a life that doesn¡¯t have to be, but for a person, so many questions require answering, it¡¯s bound to grow, and roll down the hill, is it a shadow, or someone you want to be, the moon pulling strings, dreaming of a Togepi, there is a house, in New Orleans, hmm, hmm¡­ Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Lobster I''ll always be a bottom-feeder, because I''m content to be, I don¡¯t like to fight, or contend, happy to pass, so much fruit to eat, alone in the dark, consent and acceptance, while the universe doesn¡¯t care, is where I''m happy to eat, like a lobster, a life satisfied, caught and eaten, by those greater than me, I don¡¯t really care, the heavens have sustained me, my cup filled, if it overflows, under the night, I don¡¯t like to look, but it somewhat satisfies me, so many outside of me, when they care to eat, when spirits are satisfied, an offering to the heavens, ripples in the rain, so much is good in the world, so much is worth jealousy, sustained as a bottom-feeder, I could die in peace¡­ You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. My Head Bowed Always finding excuses to not do something, content to eat, but doesn¡¯t like to bear responsibility, his character set, only really moved by string, broken-head, across so many seals, so much sin, barely a person, hiding from the sun, yearning, for the morning, spells and curses, dancing in the moonlight, an earnest wish, to let go of everything, the price of poetry, and a flowing river, somewhere in the midst, something real, how much can a person grasp, the heavens don¡¯t care, in the end, I''m just a worm squirming, my head bowed, hoping to avoid being eaten, water lilies and spiders, if they care to call, I won¡¯t be able to do anything¡­ The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Corpse Floating on the River Styx I always tend to forget, that I exist somewhere, along the river, my past echoes, driving my future, so much shame, a snake yearning to eat his own tail, but it happened, the heavens remember, so many shadows, it¡¯s something I can¡¯t escape, maybe we all wish to die in peace, but life goes on, at least for me, what sort of evil is poetry, some sort of laziness, words, echoing reality, a spirit that exists, the heavens watching, a puppet dancing, a sarcastic person, running out of jokes, and money, where will it land, a worm, trying to escape responsibility¡­ Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Old Souls So much magick lays dormant, in so many people, the heavens remember, as the river flows, they understand, so many nests by the river, under the stars, your older brothers and sisters, some care to understand the assignment, and creatures in the abyss, hope to pull you in deep, the earth, this pit of snakes, so many spells are being cast, so many gates, and walls of fire, the arrangement of reality, and the truth that it echoes, on this world, so much fits, I could be honey in a jar, but I''ve been infected with so many curses, moon in the sky, hoping to ignore it, never greater than the world, doomed to be a dancing puppet, so many old spirits, travel-worn roads, so much is worth respect, a poet trying to be careful, contracts in the sand, what demons and ghosts agree on, under the night, so much is important, rise or fall, we are but men, the heavens, and the stars in the sky, wondering how many times I¡¯ve died, they may not care, but they understand¡­ Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Ghost of a Poet Always looking for emptiness, a place where nothing happens, and life is ignored, passing the ball, what really happened, poetry, just air, not really existing, but the audience looks, a poet reaching for the moon, measured and weighed, so much judgement, spells and curses, infected, magick exists, and maybe so do virgins, and children, always looking for jokes, but they¡¯re too expensive, mental gymnastics, still a dirty uncle, trying his best, to justify his space, the world exists, this nest by the river, hoping to pass through, if he ever looks back, he''ll deny it ever happened, so many witches, connections and strings, waning crescent, yearning waits, doomed to find fulfillment... This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Waning Crescent Weird to think I have karma, this nest by the river, a cookie crumbles, where I happen to stand, and what happens outside of my vision, because it¡¯s natural, and we are just men and women, I don¡¯t care to think, but these are my strings, the heavens already know, my interests, and what I care to defend, it would be nice, to be a carefree poet, a fisherman, or a humble person, content to work construction, maybe a shopkeeper, a ghost, or a salesman, could be a network technician, under the night sky, content, as others find satisfaction, hoping to find peace as a virgin, feelings weighed and measured, the truth echoes, the heavens know, my character set, and it would be nice, to find solace with nothing, just air, an emptiness of feelings, barely anything, and everything, each with their echo, it¡¯s all justified, and it¡¯s wrong to struggle, dreams and their worth, effort and their satisfaction, whatever is a safe answer, of course I care, but I''d rather not look, the eye of Sauron, it really is weird to look directly at it, my ghost passes, peace be with you, brothers and sisters, so much yearning, pie, and what can happen, the heavens allowing what they can, a person, returning to nothing, a poet, always dreaming of the impossible... Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Along the River If the earth was considered, this rock, all the children, and their dreams, how life can happen, the probability, both lunar and solar eclipse, then if the future extends, the heavens and the stars, they measure and weigh, so many will probably go to space, explore the stars, science, their own truth, the intergalactic federation, a big room or the lower decks, commanders, engineers, or technicians, somewhere they can all fit, history is a deep pit, breathing in, caressing the line of it, depending on your sin and your burden, but why deny it, of course, so much good exists, what floats and what sinks, cheers, here¡¯s hoping, so many dreams, what you¡¯re looking for, I hope you find it¡­ Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Spiritual Sea I used to wonder, why anything happened, why questions had to be asked, why the river flows according to sequence, but the truth is I simply existed somewhere, and naturally the next thing happens, so many scattered seeds in so many places, children happen to exist, for many it''s the same, they¡¯re simply buried, they don¡¯t quite know who or what they can be, the height of the heavens and the burden of sin, what can fill their cup, what doors are open and what they accidentally let in, but no matter where they landed or the earth they¡¯re bound to grow in, whether they settle or try to spread their wings, growth is bound to happen, what can fit in the life they happen to be living, seals break, the seasons and the stars, who they happen to be and the strings attached to them, all the food they¡¯ve eaten and broken hymens, the heavens are merciful and just, so many feelings, measured and weighed, spells and curses, undercurrents, what can be, demons and ghosts, so many intentions, shadows and honey in a jar, so many diseases, people hoping for peace and security, safety and a place to sleep, is the truth not pretty, denial, a poet and whimsy, so much thrown away, a cookie crumbling, so many neighbors, and what the truth happens to be, so much is still real, so much life to live, a vibrant mind, so many ideas, and their refinement, alas, we are but men, and our bodies are decaying, how much can the spirit change, magick and it¡¯s boundaries, the stars in the sky, both the sun and the moon, so much in the air, all our dreams, as the river flows, so much can happen, but if we cared to look back, was it just air passing, or as the water settles, is it natural for dreams to find satisfaction, for ideas to find peace, and spirits and ghosts to find graves to rest in... Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. The Two Rivers So much doesn¡¯t matter, but as I was growing up, it¡¯s like I was always looking for meaning, justifying my actions and my existence, as the heavens were watching, looking up and yearning, refining my mind, what bound my heart and my intentions, all that exists, the boundaries of a spell, human instincts and magick, the blood that flows through my veins, the spirits that fill my cup, the moon, attached strings, and the assignment, honey in a jar, and if the heavens willed, it probably doesn¡¯t have to mean anything, but people still care to write, the sun shines and there are still children, what¡¯s within the bounds of possibility, and I¡¯m still an old ghost, yearning for youth, a loose poet, not too different, from a male prostitute, I could be a virgin, forty cents and consent, a snake trying to eat his tail, but why hide it, I might as well admit it, I¡¯m well across the boundary of adulthood, so much life can still happen, ideas and questions waiting, feelings and emotions, the heavens measuring and weighing, what hurts each time, what people can agree with, yearning for peace, but I may be too hopeful, I live in a bubble and I ignore so much, breaking through and a spiritual sea, so many storms and natural disasters, the world and our place in it, what happens in the places I¡¯m not looking, young demons, and the waves pushing and pulling, strings binding, the next generation watching, the heavens understand, so much is judged and weighed, and rivers can still break into mountains, the sweetness of fruit and broken hymens, broken-head and ideas evolving, children growing, branches extending, and fruit ripens, then the next thing happens, the Forks, two rivers, the Assiniboine, and the Red River, so much water, ever-flowing... You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Neurons and Synapses How the ego grows, the smaller a person is, and how a person and their mind grows, the bigger their ideas are, how such great things are contained within small packages, the potential, for ideas that are useful to the world, how spirits are able to flow, between the lines, through open portals and buttholes, how ideas are communicates, how ideas become real, and how intangible reality sometimes becomes, how people are able to flow through the cracks, how we become chickens, the very things we care to be eating, the price, the push and pull of all we partake in, how it happens according to sequence, how we¡¯re in the same place as so many others, and how we exist in the same way as so many, how we hurt ourselves when we dare to raise our fists, how we are one under the night, how there are multitudes of ourselves existing in so many places, how we find satisfaction when another person eats their fill, and how our body shares eternities, space, and time, with so many others, how the river flows in many directions, and what can be contained within a mind, how this is honey in a jar, yet it¡¯s still able to fit so much, and how I also exist as part of the jar, where I exist, and my role in the lives of others, how I¡¯m viewed, and the echo of my actions, so many ripples, how much is serious, or tangible, my pocket of dreams, what my reflection is used for, and what lives my shadow dares to live, all the work he¡¯s done, brave soldiers, so much dirty work, yet still reaching for everything, willful and daring, a heartbeat under a mountain, a normal amount of courage and intellect, something so similar to so many others, tigers, goats, and snakes, how greatness waits for the daring, how the sun and the moon pull their strings, deities and the stars in the sky, the devil and the rumble of thunder on the horizon, why so much has to echo, and how each thing that exists has to have a counter, how ideas ripple and shift, reacting to your intent, how so many great things exist, and how the heavens measure and weigh, even if they don¡¯t really care about what you do with the life you live, and how electrons move as waves when you¡¯re looking, how traps probably wait around the things we look down on, and how it doesn¡¯t really matter if it was just an idea, how my body decays and how my money is dwindling, how worry and anxiety drives so much life, and how a poet looks for work, earns his food, and how we are still people, and we need to eat, how space and time work within the mind, how our mind has the same arrangement as so many others, how we¡¯re alone and how so many scary ideas exist, how the river runs red with blood, how we exist within the bounds of humanity, and how most people want to do their work and go home, not really caring, how so much exists outside of our mind, and all the things that can pass by without concerning us, how so much doesn¡¯t matter, but we still live with ourselves, how a universe has to eat, ghosts and demons, roads to power and immortality, how terrible ideas exist and how there¡¯s no need to acknowledge them, how a fisherman lives, how much a person really needs, poverty, and the many situations a person can survive in, how the ground is cold, winter is harsh, how the West extends, how I¡¯m grateful to be a Canadian citizen, how so many people dare to care, and the safety net built by those with hearts containing so much love in them, the echo of equality, and greatness that can be achieved by groups of people who are similarly-minded, how so much thought and careful work goes into a functioning society, how peo0le try their best, and how people can¡¯t help but find themselves in situations where they¡¯re struggling, helping hands, broken bread, loving Christians, shelters and the homeless, the way god exists in so many ways, and in so many people, how we¡¯re all people, filled with spirits, and following signals, how so much may not matter, so much may be accidents or random, and how a cookie crumbled, but how so much seems to follow a careful design, how there¡¯s no way to really know, heaven and hell, how all people can do is try their best¡­ Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Words Order, mathematics, and sequence, and what¡¯s able to fit in an angel number, and the sort of perfection that is able to fit in a poem with a set number of words, the ripple and flow of their ideas, how they can latch onto something relevant, positive and negative, creating a shadow of something real, your natural reaction, a gynecologist, and raspberries, texture files, sweat and tears, the idea of blood and vampire bites, feeding off energy to get to the next meal, and how you have to bite, to mark the occasion and say it was real, just shadows, but Walmart girl, I remember your bush and panties, bus baby in red, the caress of your lips, what naturally moves the mind, spiders weaving webs, spells and magick, all that a poem can be, a natural arrangement, art and architecture, such great spirits, the sun and the moon, pulling strings, and guiding everything, old souls looking for immature spirits, and young virgins, so many levels and layers, looking up at the stars, who a person can be, or even what a poet can do, what I can try, but my spirit dwindles, calm desires, gentle fires, hoping for peace and death, broken-head and a spiritual sea, man, and gooseberry jam, so much can exist, the river flows, only so much calls to my soul, I try to remain true to the spirit of the poem, and I try to make jokes, but so much echoes, good and evil, it feels weird to ignore, maybe I¡¯d rather acknowledge it, shadows, and the edge of my mind, within the realm of possibilities, sex, behind closed doors, and within the lines, alas, the ocean goes so deep, in the end, I probably can¡¯t make a dent in it¡­ The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Recycling The river flows, wanton and uncaring, sometimes it diverges, and sometimes the water dries, and yeah, the heavens don¡¯t give a fuck, if they sense a hint of disobedience, you''ll die, again and again, just a circulation, slicing pieces of meat, from your arms and legs, allowing others to feed, those you offended, the sun and the moon, have so many interests, good and evil, just an ant, floating on a leaf, on a river, not daring to care about anything, hoping to pass through, unblemished, wishful thinking, my shadow, my reflection, like bread, divided into multiple pieces, like mother Mary, feeding both men and women, the town, it¡¯s painted red, and the river is drenched in blood, yeah, I smell it, but the vast expanse of the universe, not much really matters, so much is arranged to be perfect, a growing cultivation, a spiritual sea, expanding, and expanding, what can a worm do, the heavens watch, but they really can¡¯t care enough¡­ The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. One Piece The only way to win, is to be a fool, to not care if you lose, no matter who you are, or the heights of your wisdom, you''ll still be checkmated after each move, each step you make will have a counterweight, a balancing piece, man or spirit, if it was a matter of being good, or righteous under heaven, you still wouldn¡¯t measure up, before your head climbs your ass, the devil waits between the lines, the heavens saw, and they said you¡¯re not good enough, to be deluded and free, a worm squirming under the moon, she doesn¡¯t care for anything, yeah, it''s a big piece, but she¡¯s heavenly, good or evil, what did it matter, all life can ever amount to, is a water lily and a bumblebee, the Japanese and Saturn, Sailor Moon, we serve the same goddess, but no one really likes to make it obvious, September, seasons change, so many players, waiting for the gong to ring, and the story to flow, oh how we all yearn, to make that fat lady moan once more... You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Wordsmith I may have died multiple times in the depths of the matrix, and the oceans may go deep, the heavens and their feelings, a poet imprisoned, but looking back, I''ve always been alive, and as I remember it, death was a wonderful thing, like a river flowing into the ocean, how does a spirit flow, I don¡¯t really know, personally, I have a lot of memories for how life happened, how I flowed into the universe, learned magick, and joined the intergalactic space association, but this whole time, I''ve been under the sun and the moon, a puppet on a string, dreaming as much as he can, this whole time I¡¯ve been alive, and my mind simply wandered, a grand realm, where anything can happen, where all the natural conclusions, simply sat and waited to be recognized, you look, go to the nurse for an injection, a flash, and bam, it happens, my baby, impregnated, so much happens within the lines, so many rooms within the mind, my poetry is currency, for magick and dreams, mermaids and spiders, pulling me to sleep, honey in a jar, a unicorn in Ohio, the moon singing me lullabies, thinking of my mom, all the faeries I¡¯ve tempted, the depths of the abyss, eternity after eternity, it doesn¡¯t take much to give in, ripple and shake, the world exists, take the red pill, recycling and laundry, the mind may wander, but I¡¯ve always been me¡­ Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Rainstorm If every step is a checkmate, circumstance probably decides so much of the life and love we live, like time, a silent killer, the seed is scattered, if you find yourself growing in the wrong place, you may as well resign yourself to living with demons, ripple and shake, the world exists, so many ways to live, how it¡¯s lonely to climb a mountain, make your way past the bushes and the rainforest, civilization far behind, passing through the river along the valley, climbing the mountains, caressing your face amongst the clouds, dreaming of your mommy, in the garden of Eden, heaven and hell wait, take the red pill and see the truth, you yearned for love but it doesn¡¯t exist, or believe it¡¯s bullshit, and be content with eating steak, live, laugh, love, but the spirit still flows, if you were a baller, even in the depths of hell, a life the heavens dared to live, you would sit and wade your hands along the wet abyss, jump into the pool, like a fish swimming in the water, the sun and the moon, if you were that great, you would commit, stir your milkshake, the waitress sneezed in it, it''s still good, drink it anyway, living la vida loca, smoke some weed, entangled in the depths, so much frustration, sweet Katie, are you thirsty, please drink my piss, such a tasty bitch, reuse, recycle, how does a spirit flow, I don¡¯t really know, so many clean slates, how dirty can you get, is it smelly, give it a kiss, don¡¯t worry, no matter how far you get, there¡¯s always a river to jump in, a wall of fire waiting, why so serious, oh, your mom calls, she was sucking your dad¡¯s dick, such fat tits, stick it in, your daughter¡¯s panties, just the tip, wake me up when September ends, that¡¯s today, damn, my cup waits, Spirit Halloween, a pussy cat, she¡¯s wet, just a poor poet, hoping it doesn¡¯t overflow again¡­ This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Twenty-Seven Club Is mount Olympus the hill you want to die on, god died and he made you, a black dude, you could be another banal generality, or become a superstar, and die before you¡¯re thirty, no one can deny you''d be great, but as a person, it¡¯s sort of contained within an immaturity, like your head climbed into your ass way too early, so much exists and there¡¯s so many ways to live, if you continued forward, you may have to climb down the hill, but maybe you''d be able to rest, your back against the grass, and you could look up at the stars, broken-head and a spiritual sea, your mind would expand, and you¡¯d grow as a person, but you¡¯d have to give up the idea, that you¡¯re better than everyone, Jesus Christ and all the crypt-keepers, maybe it¡¯s at least better than that, not even Sascha, not even Tanya, no matter what, if you just kept going, you¡¯d probably see, there¡¯s so much more than your shitty idea of the height, your weird understanding of the devil, and your sad rebellion against the heavens, a worm wriggles, four inches, god exists in so many ways, and we can only explore so much, to give it up at twenty seven, like your afraid the world would look, weigh it all on a scale and judge, it amounted to this, sure you''re great, you and your hill, but in the greater scope, so much is achieved without you, maybe you marked your place, and left on a journey, all work is good work, how does a spirit flow, or how sturdy is a cup, what is value and what is blasphemy, who knows, but maybe the world can always use more art... This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Still Life of an Apple Do you look down on ladies posting nudes on the internet, what if I told you we are but men and women, and as a young soul, your fresh body, like bread multiplying, and thrown into the sea, for any willing fish to eat, was more karma than you could understand, that under heaven, it did more good for the world, than your CEO, the cloud architects, or all the other worker ants, she may be a worm wriggling, but god damn, Mother Mary really did feed the children, moon in the sky weighing my words, the sun looking to rise above, under the stars we are like rocks, never greater than the world, if the weight of your value was on a scale, would a porn star be able to claim your soul? A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The Underworld To the heavens above, we''re just fish swimming in the sea, The stars really are great, their interests, and their responsibility, We are but puppets, and we move as directed, Sometimes they give us a chance, and we are tested, They make us fight, and put us on the roster, Each step measured, for the next step, Echoing in the distance, our assignment, Our role to play, As the cookie crumbles, So many sides, and so many interests, The strings attached to us, and what we dare to dance for, I''m just a poet, and a creepy uncle, The moon can turn on me at any moment, Saturn in the West, and drops of Jupiter, Jesus, please, I''m just a man, The heavens, and their shadow, Ever-present, and we¡¯re just fish, Following the currents, and looking for food, Worms can wriggle, and clean slates, are bound to gather dirt, Try as we might, as men and women, gay or transgender, humanity and our plight, Checkmate at each step, whichever rebellion we can think of, we¡¯re just beasts rolling around in the dirt, Whatever star we¡¯re under, Dolls and heaven¡¯s reflection, If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. The greatness of the universe, The depths of the oceans, How does a spirit flow, Handshakes and negotiations, The lake may ripple, the truth and sequence may echo, Where will it flow, I don¡¯t know, So much is dictated, How rampant is ignorance, When the heavens pull strings, How many are deluded, Infected with the idea, That they¡¯re somehow their shadow, How many old demons and ghosts, Hide and shirk responsibility, They pass the ball, hoping a child catches it, not really caring, Does the child¡¯s head enter his ass, So many questions, along the sequence, What is an eternity, so many mistakes a person can make, Sinners, the heavens and the abyss, again and again, How beastly, foxes and bunnies, does your dog look pretty, Under the stars is such a difficult place to live, The best we can do as people, Is try our best, hope for acceptance, One with the universe, The sun and the moon, Guidance for the well-intended, Reparations, for a child¡¯s faith, when the world has wronged them, How does a spirit flow, I¡¯m just a poet, I understand some magick, But I don¡¯t really know, Brothers and sisters, We dance under the moonlight, Strings pull and we fight, But we¡¯re just collectibles in a doll house, There¡¯s no reason for it, But the spirit grows hungry, The soul becomes old, So many scattered seeds, Streams into rivers, into lakes, then into oceans, The echo of the future, The spirit flows, Alpha and Omega, The realm of possibilities, Shadows, spiders, and vampires, The echo of the underworld, The greatness of a worm, Innocence, the age of consent, and protection, Pearl and her daddy, a white whale, watching over everything, Four inches at most, never escaping his belly, Spirits, demons, and ghosts, Mermaids, spiders, and goats, So many reflections, unicorns, bumblebees, and water lillies, Whoever you marry, they¡¯ll always be family, Love, your cousins, and Bikini Bottom, How does a spirit flow, and how does a soul grow old, Does a river to jump in and a wall of fire wait for those who dare to give in, Soldier ants, bottom-feeders, and gatekeepers, The matrix goes deep, so many journeys, and checkpoints, Do you know the way, or are you like me, a child in line for a roller-coaster ride, like a rolling stone, not really thinking, just allowing the river to flow, So many pockets, and so many dreams, Sitting in my room, always waiting, The mind can wander, but I¡¯m just a poet, imprisoned, living in a studio, This whole life, just an experience, Space divides, dirt and grime, the Egyptians, Goats and satyrs, So many wild beasts, Their spirits all-conquering and real, Scary, please keep those doors sealed, Creatures in the depths of the abyss, Shadows, and hints of possibility, The vast mind, and a universe eating, Our hearts under a mountain, and all that¡¯s connected to the human body, Life can exist in so many ways, It¡¯s October, and my cup is waiting, Heaven forbid, partake in this daily bread, lord, please forgive me¡­ Fieldmouse Running out of energy, a vampire needs to feed, the heavens measuring, soon, the gears will turn, and the setting will lock, struggle, burn, or rot, an unwilling zombie, a water lily waits in the distance, victory at each step, only so much can move my heart, on the dark side of the moon, a new cycle, beginning to yearn, what waits for a poor poet, can he escape, and step back into the sunlight, or will he be shunned, forced to dance under the moonlight, good and evil, this whole time, I was already dead, and I was just struggling for life¡­ This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Bread and Butter So many spiders and genies, spinning their webs, casting their spells, and laying their traps, alarms and cantrips, a universe eating, can you walk, or are you willing, a deal waiting, cash or credit, what is real, let me take you for a ride, foxes and chicks, goblins and pussy cats, so many are looking to feed, consent, or fueled by emotions, shadows and reflections, have you been bitten, bread and cookies, so many virgins, fruit is so fulfilling, what am I saying, opening my eyes, jokes are expensive, good will is insensitive, honesty, and the blood between your legs, I¡¯m sorry baby, this is what you do to me, resting, and unwilling to look, the eye of Sauron, lick her lips, are they tasty, under the moonlight, so many are dancing, yes, I¡¯m going to Broadway, can I get a taxi? This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Sex with a Fish If it was worth anything, or spurred any feelings, it¡¯s been done, you live in a jar, and all the jokes have been made, your dad fucked both your wife, and your sister, then your daughter, think about it, does it hurt, the heavens above, blasphemy lingers, but it¡¯s been done, it¡¯s a new moon, strings pull, and they¡¯re moving my heart, my cup waits, my body is weak, it¡¯s getting old, and I just want to lay down, the mind moves, recycling and laundry, everlasting fruit, all that I have to bear, it builds up, imprisoned in this room, but the heavens don¡¯t care, the most I can hope for, is to be a zombie that doesn¡¯t feel anything, a rolling stone, without fear, a universe has to eat, it needs delusion to get there, are you tired, take a pill, and go to sleep, so much a person can do, but I¡¯m just a dude, and so much is worth nothing, the vast expanse of space, with enough time, all sorts of value builds, the sun and the moon, a rotting VHS tape, again and again, like sex with a fish, waiting for the next thing, hoping the water ripples, and it does something¡­ The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Bread Crumbs Outside this jar, nothing really matters, just an infinity barrier, the heavens and all the questions they¡¯re asking, what if this happened, what if that happened, each angle, scattered seeds, cloned and copied, so many templates, a whole army, to be used and abused, so much blood, you killed that dude three times, did you manage to vent any of your feelings, the truth echoes and the water ripples, eggs and bacon, I''m the food at your table, each inclination, within the realm of possibility, a poet''s body, can feed so many¡­ This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Socks for Christmas Everything is just ideas and spell-work, the heavens above, and I''m just the pen, but nothing is real, if it can be nice, it will be, but if you¡¯re intent on looking down on it, aware of the risk, and you let it go, the truth will twist, the beasts and shadows, the abyss creatures, they¡¯ll smell the hint of it, a possibility of ill intent, and so many spirits are all-encompassing and pure, a shadow of doubt and they¡¯ll pounce, your eyes open, magick in the air, and so much possibility, there¡¯s only a few things you can do, allow the worm to wriggle, naked in Eden, and just be honest, or bury yourself in the dirt, and when the sun shines, just hide, poor and innocent, what can a person do, the best he can, to not cause trouble, and avoid starting fires, children and their free trial of life, ignorance can cause so much damage, so much string to be entangled in, try to keep it clean, or do your best to hold onto reality, but magick exists, for the heavens above, there are only ideas, and words are real, as a poet, willful and whimsical, my chains are solid, such great blasphemy, I¡¯m imprisoned, there¡¯s so much greatness in the world, whether science or magick, I don¡¯t quite understand a lot of it, but there all sorts of ingenious ways to live, my mistake was that I looked at the stars and gave in, try, try your best, as a person, I don¡¯t want to live, but love and life, for those who dare, so much good, waits for those who care¡­ This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Water Lily All life matters, dare to eat an ant, or a bumblbee drenched in nectar, that is a universe you crushed in your mouth, the black salamander on my back, the stars and the vast expanse of space, the result, another container in a great ocean of living things, as you walk down the street to get the mail, your spirit was measured and drained, and you traveled whole continents, the sun and the moon live within all of us, so many rooms in the mind and so many gods above, all sorts of creatures in the abyss, within the realm of possibilities, a vampire could be the least horrifying thing, he couldn¡¯t escape a spider, a water lily and her hunger, a mountain drenched in blood would not stop her, what you dare to wonder and what you dare to let in, how does the spirit flow, all sorts of open doors, Hera, my baby girl and her asshole, she could consume you whole and you wouldn¡¯t even know¡­ Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. The Test on Friday Each universe is a go board, the sun and the moon place their pieces, their army of collectibles, according to the rules and configurations, they measure your answer sheet, the depth of the questions on the quiz, will you be an echo or a dream come true, Uranus or Neptune, a player before the board, a general or a sword, an NPC or a main character, as a story, the river flows into the ocean, into the next game board, free parking, go to the start, and collect two hundred dollars, scattered seeds, the truth, shadows and reflections, the echo of so many chemical reactions, knowledge and the depth of your evil, bump fists and test your spirit, the soldier ants gather, will you be eliminated, before the pieces complete a cycle, or strong enough to withstand a rain of arrows, cups and their sturdiness, the spirit ever-flowing, the beginning or the end, both echo, win or lose, you¡¯ll live on forever, throughout it all, the branch extends, and it bears a fruit, you¡¯re immortal, you against the world and the heavens, within this layer of space, Earth 838, don¡¯t hesitate, and consume¡­ This story originates from a different website. 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Tripwire Women, I don¡¯t understand what they are, some sort of mystical creature, separate from what a virgin could understand, it¡¯s like they fell from the sky, all the way from heaven, and they landed in god¡¯s arms anyways, always so beautiful and in the right, something a man can¡¯t quite fight, under the moonlight, a succubus, horns out, such pretty nipples, and if you ever thought they were ugly, sinful or wrong, you would misunderstand, all that a woman could be, please give your flesh to me, such a lovely fruit, let me kiss it, your heart, let me pierce it, nerdy girl with glasses, goth pussy and water lilies, a spider spinning webs, so many trapped with red thread, a dead man waiting to be eaten, an endless dream and a soul stolen, all that she could do, so much righteousness in her power, so much evil, justified under heaven, a poet mourning for his innocence, stuck in his room, yearning for the impossible, and hoping for freedom... If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. East to West and Wafer East to West The realm of possibility, so many scattered seeds, maybe it¡¯s limited at what can happen, the river flows outwards, into your next life, through your dna, generations pushing on, the branch extending each eternity, within this world, the sun and the moon, ignorance, freedoms, and arrogance, goodwill, architecture and it¡¯s intent, the limit of mankind, all sorts of people creating art, the knowledge of good and evil, do all roads lead to Rome, the heavens watching, everything, the food we eat, the ground we walk on, it could all be contained, within a life god dares to live, cursed, suffering and depth, age and mistakes, the sin we bear, are good things always good, the sky we live under, demons and ghosts, the road to hell, greed and selfishness, how the cookie crumbles, regret and grievances, foundation establishment, unanswered questions, the past happened, I¡¯m unsure if it¡¯s something we can erase, does the stone roll down the hill either way, magick and intentions, safe havens and opportunity, energy, what we dare to do, give to a child, all our plans, youth and what we dare to let go of, following our hearts in the valley of the shadow of death, mathematics, sin, cos, tan, research, looking at the stars, love and chemical reactions, the direction we¡¯re walking, reality, contracts in the sand, and negotiations, eternity after eternity, the ocean rippling, the depths of the abyss, jokes and running away from our problems, commitment and acceptance, the truth echoing, music, the moonlight, and the assignment, the game and pointing the blame, magick in the air, the world, and how a spirit flows, open doors, and stealing from children, feeding on virgins, beasts of the land and sea, a bumblbee and a water lily, what can be agreed on, so many demons and deities, magick as the seasons pass, our emotions, puppets and string, making a fat lady sing, importance and sacrifice, a lazy poet, the uneducated, imprisonment, humanity, under the same sky, dreams, shadows, and an ocean of reason, what we care to do, sex with a fish, the water rippling, what we care for, all the jokes, templates and experiences, keys and gateways, electrons, protons, neutrons, and their neighbors, the future, starships, the vast expanse of space, history, the devil in the details, the cracks a spirit can fall in, the mind and a universe eating, cups and containers, a river of spirits, god and his personality, she¡¯s either a woman or he¡¯s gay, white as snow, what is blasphemy, is pain the same, does life always hurt, your worst nightmares, are they relevant, riding tigers, the demarcation point, it¡¯s October, the spirit stirs, vampires and ghosts, protecting their interest, family and respect, under the night, Pluto, and the depths of hell, Yggdrasil, and all the trees, legends and myth, greatness and insignificance, the beginning and the end, man or beast, who you dare to be, contained in the body, governing spirits, law and their embodiment, nature, dragons and faeries, smoking, wealth, and cleansing the spirit, what flows in the river, and the blood in our veins, kings and their kingdoms, spiders, cherries, and chocolate milk, goth girlfriend with huge tits, love spells, emotions, a cup overfills, humanity and all the songs that we sing, under the sun, all that we don¡¯t understand, our hopes and dreams, how we grew up, and a poet, unqualified to really speak of these things, daring to reach, value, god, and the nature of intentions, magick, demons, and curses, clothes drenched in blood, laundry and recycling, psychology and incest, what was I saying, what I don''t care to say, and questions, four inches, so many lessons, blame and imperfection, praise be, greed, death, and thr moonlight, spells, VHS, goats and judgement, zombies, mercenaries, generals, swords, spears, a pen under the night, we are legion, October, and falling leaves, angels, and howling beasts, partaking in daily bread, value and the girl of your dreams, work and credit, gambling and guessing, hell''s gates, fire and flame, and effort, clogged pipes and a big shit, a fiddle, Saturn, and imp''s laughing, righteousness, and the winter coming, thunder and lightning, seasons, and a dead man sweating, rewards for the daring, temptation, yearning, hoping for ripples, pushing on, looking forward to Star Trek and the lower decks, generation Alpha, honey in a jar, sex and more sex, hoping for a different room, heaven and hell, heat and relief, just a collectible, Blue Eyes White Dragon, Mother Mary, and the flames of desire, curiosity, and answers set in stone, the truth to me, a sea of flames, an army, so many swords, thieves, pushed on by greed, what would you do for Helen of Troy, tricks, tripwire, and spiderwebs, Kage Bunshin no Jutsu, realms of swords and magick, body refining, divination, and unfinished stories, something, something, Judas, a bag of gold, unemployment, loans, and the homeless, jewellery, pawn shops, hagstones, moonstones, red jackets, rituals, sweat lodges, virgin sacrifices, offerings to the sun, so many goats, and so much desire, satisfaction, for each and every one, selfishness and rejection, Jesus Christ, red strings, close calls, shadows, reflections, the interest of wizards, witches, so many spells, so many frogs, trudging through the swamp, six feet under, innuendo, the value of words, the weight of a poet, across the river, so many gravestones, nurses and healing, love for blonde hair, and glasses, your wife is calling, what hasn''t happened, again and again, the sequence of my sin, the natural conlcusion for intentions, the world, responsibility, and delusion, a lovely princess, doves and pidgeons, long journeys, are you tired, home is calling, I would settle, for a grape that was eaten, a cherry popping, or being reduced to nothing, at this point I''m just running, how far can we get, as far as away as we can, dancing puppets, on Buddha''s palm, good and evil, what does it matter, in a jar, your neighbors are talking, an infinity barrier, and what you hear through the grapevine, jealousy, how many eternities, the pastor''s daughter and his wife, magick in the air, waving my hands, I''m innocent, but I don¡¯t care, one, two, three, English and Spanish, uno, deus, tres, spells, weaving baskets and soft cushions, artisans, chefs, Germans, and chocolate, twins, who cares, what you dare to think, and what hasn''t happened yet, I definitely live in a jar, level ten, cautiousness, fear of death, never greater than the world, in the garden of Eden, basslines, and hoping to stir the pot, reaching for everything, letting it all go, hoping it returns, whatever, this cup, filled with so many spirits, and surrounded by all that I don¡¯t dare to do, moonlight faeries, so many dragons, so much love, echoes and ghosts, so much banging, and blacksmiths, the depths of the matrix, so much work, illusions for containment, exploring freedom, a poet talking about god, his wishful thoughts, a hint of what he wishes for, and his selfishness, all that flowed out into the world, so much treasure, a mountain of gold, he couldn¡¯t hold onto, rubies and sapphire, sons and daughters, echoes of where I could be, a lonely man, who wants to go to sleep, a universe that has to eat, the echo of a price, value, and a dream fulfilled, passing time, and the seasons, laziness, age, and a rotting zombie, a safe room, security, energy, demons waiting, and eventuality, where I happen to be, floating forward, telling stories, no one really listening, letting it happen, not willing to involve the world in my problems, no one caring, the heavens watching, rewards waiting, foundation establishment, the echo of mistakes, and the natural conclusion, hope and what can still happen, baked bread, the value of ideas and information, the moonlight, and the adventurer''s guild, so many soldier ants, working for the queen, is there a quest waiting, the setting, the two rivers, where I want to be, questions asked, and what heaven knows I value, what doesn''t matter, what I dare to do, a ball rolling down the hill, so much outside of me, hoping for nothing, the sweet sound of silence, so many dreams and nightmares, shadows and inception, eternities, space division, my life, just an experience, so many spirits, Kyle, banging my wife, a fortnight, under the moonlight, echoes of the future, and what can be, all my hopes, never really escaping this jar I live in, daring to dream, the heavens giving in, what you gave to a child, unknown value, and what I happened to earn, the threat of reality, fame and fortune, regrets, Van Gogh, and the starry sky, outside the scope of my existence, or I guess my interest, what happens to be, and what already happened, laziness, what the heavens do with my reflection, climbing mountains, and working anyway, whatever, who cares, so many heroes, the devil, looking down, the cicada and the oriole, heroes and defeating evil, contentment, sleep, freedom, u-turns, and paying for parking, anything at the market, cyberpunk, fearless children, a poet, unsure if he should be caring, the world, a crossroads, and a direction, whatever, East to West, what could have been a sword move, google, whatever, your mom, and your daughter''s panties, so many mines, dig deep, if you want it, you laugh you lose, Inanna, and her asshole... Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Wafer Configurations and sequence, I wonder if each person has something different, bound under architecture, red string, under the sun, youth and getting old, the river flows, if you looked at it, maybe god was with everyone¡­ Same Sky All I want is to be an echo, to pass, and disappear the next moment, oh what a dream, to not be necessary, to be dependent, on a lost hope, a ghost with a generic line, a function with a script, an agent Smith, a hint of a joke, that no one ever got, a war and a tower, and all those who ignored it, a feisty virgin, mourning all that he can¡¯t have, a value building, and an instant achievement, whatever, the moon and the side I''ve chosen, what does it mean to not be a virgin, within, serving the queen, to be an Indian, a genie, and to learn magick, a lifetime of work, heaven and forty virgins, whatever, a joke, imps and a bunch of laughter, a poem that¡¯s lasted too long, hoping for a place to settle, a poet and his hours, experience points, and hoping to be a musician, why, Fillipinos and battle gongs, a collectible, whatever, the shape of you, perfect as you are, what if innocence was real, then bend me over and fuck me, yeah baby, you can be my mommy, an inclination, a dirty uncle, the sun and the moon, a ball and a roulette table, eternities, where will it land, what does it matter, a cup of spirits, what can it contain, the vast expanse of space, the hope of children, a corpse, yearning for sleep, zombie sex, collectibles, and a bunch of nerds, life and love, whatever, goblins and Hermes, journeys, a flowing river, and your mom¡¯s butthole, peaking through the door, your daughter¡¯s panties, she¡¯s just like her mother, dreams, a hint of something real, so much cum, what were you thinking, the sins I¡¯m bearing, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m just a poet, and I couldn¡¯t do it without her¡­ If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. 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Shes Just Like Me For Real Copy and paste, what an easy solution, still in a jar, scattered seeds, and all that¡¯s happened, because of stagnation, me and the heavens, level ten, the sun and the moon, just masturbating, templates, all the songs they''ve written, so much exists outside of me, configuration and sequence, experience points and learning to rhyme, art and architecture, a basic foundation, checkmate at each step, building value, what¡¯s relevant, hoping for an eternity of darkness, old age, chess pieces, and collectibles, an army of ants, a river, the arrangement of fate, pulled strings, yearning, this life, an experience, a VHS tape, trading wives, your mom and dad, so much banging, divided space, still in a jar, god is real, and he dares to do anything, closed rooms, time control, and instant satisfaction, what happens to be true because he says so, and I don¡¯t know, the moon, strings pull, jokes, suffering, is any of this relevant, Kyle, and my sister, what matters, and what you care for, dreams, and inception, your fantasies, Tumblr, porn, your mom, the moon, her butthole, whatever¡­ The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The Fae It¡¯s not a weird idea, as a personality, an idea, or a character, your spirit is in multiple places at once, for faeries and all sort of spritely entities to share your surroundings, across space and time, is not really a difficult concept to grasp, wherever you are in your story, all sorts of creatures have walked a path with an uncanny similarity, who you are according to sequence and mathematics, sin, cos, tan, the number pi, the letter e, what was I saying, it could be pretty much the same thing as a three-tailed fox, a laughing brownie, a bumblebee, a butterfly, or a water lily, you could be a mermaid, pulling sailors into the sea, your spirit, under the stars, the moon pulling strings, so many interests, if you¡¯re the same, you would know to do the work and serve them, according to the seasons, demons, ghosts, and dragons, so many dancing, for an ethereal world, across a boundary, but you would be a fool to doubt their reality¡­ This story originates from Royal Road. 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Helen of Troy God is a whore, the sun and the moon, looking back it was almost as if everything was a test, and there was a just reward, some sort of rest, but the heavens don¡¯t care, they simply feed on what can be, the realm of possibility, your daughter¡¯s smelly panties, if it generated a feeling, it¡¯s been done, whether you¡¯re poor or rich, fat or starving on the streets, if it produced an idea, the hint of value, and you can bet, the devil and five panthers were there to ravage each helpless fairy, but the moon, that lovely fat lady, really is a hungry bitch, under the moonlight, deluded by love and life, you would almost think she was good, or magick was in the air, and it may linger in the world, and who knows, she may love you, the Sharingan, the eye of Sauron, a waiting soul trap, an army of corpses, do you want to go to heaven, those lovely pearly gates, then dig, dig, she waits there, a lily in a valley, copied and pasted, what do you mean, of course she¡¯s special, worth your soul, and all you could ever be, under heaven, the moon shines and the wolves howl, how could any man say no¡­ Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The Cross, The Tip, The Cold Truth, and Doll The Cross Everything is a spell, throughout the day, so many spirits are gathered, and they move your body, all their intentions, traveling through your actions, the heavens and their spirit, your life would be artwork, and you would be the pen, there¡¯s no need to be concerned with your needs or desires, simply be a slave, bend your knees and give your father everything you can offer¡­ The Tip Everything is blasphemous, how you move your hands or legs, the tremor of your fingers, caressing the river along the valley, reaching for the mountains and their snowy tips, caressing them with your lips, what was I saying, everything is wrong, two lines, the sun and the moon, and your son between them¡­ The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The Cold Truth It¡¯s normal to die, in the realm of possibility, as the cookie crumbles, and reality echoes, just science and chemical reactions, just walking down the street, do you really have faith in the police, your mom and human resources, the echo of your sin, your daughter¡¯s cries, something you hope to ignore, if this poetry was a person, so many ways to die, how many bullet-holes, so many main characters, through the valley of the shadow of death, all the plot points, enemy encounters, and mission impossible, but by the grace of the heavens they make it through¡­ Doll I''m in a jar, so what, you don¡¯t have to overanalyze all of it, I''m really curious, whether I can simply exist, and the world¡¯s reaction would be nothing, throwing pebbles in a pond, hoping it doesn¡¯t ripple, going through the day, as spirits fill my cup, I''m lazy but I have to do something, I''m just a man, my mom and dad, how did they raise me, as a perspective, among so many ways that god can exist, strings pull, the answers to the quiz, a slave to the moon, good and evil, and art, how beautiful, as the cookie crumbles in each way, why does my identity remain, always hoping for peace and death, just a puppet, don¡¯t think too much of it¡­ Character, Nest by the River, Half of Your Grade, and Brownies Character You¡¯re going to get eaten either way, you might as well be ignorant, uncaring, don¡¯t think too much of it, so many shadows, ghosts and demons in the abyss, they each seek satisfaction, and in the vast expanse of space, they¡¯re hungry, and curious, whether you¡¯re a bitch, a knight or a thief, a whore or a bard, so many questions, along the line, where do you fall, the fae and their tricks, wisdom and riddles, do you dare challenge them, where is your faith, is it possible they¡¯re real, anti-magick in a vault, hey, the world needs engineers, the echo of who you are, in the vast expanse of space, was it a life god dared to live, Uranus and Neptune, work and money, hold on to your dreams, you never know, they could be something real¡­ Nest by the River Is it a joke, or is it food, does youth exist, what is an anemone, or an angel egg, what is an alien, or girls with red hair, the Tuatha De Danann, eels and the milky way, where do these souls migrate, so much exists outside the scope of what I know, so many dreams on the horizon, to reach for each one would be greedy, to a hungry demon it would be needy, the fae, so many deep wells, they know quite well how to defend themselves, Cyberpunk or Star Trek, so much exists, and Renaissance fairs, I''m curious, but I''m wondering, do I even belong there¡­ The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Half of Your Grade Everything is just the moon and her magick, as a poet, I don¡¯t actually have any talent, she pulls, and she arranges, the sun and his questions, whether we¡¯re food, or whether we''re allowed our existence, this nest by the river, just a place to live, so many goblins and wolves, dragons and genies, such old beasts, so many are ignored, but they¡¯re watching and they witness many things, passing judgement, according to interest, do you care to offer respect, are you paying with cash or credit, the universe is so big, and there are so many deep wells, are you satisfied as a sinner, or are you curious, work and effort, so many dreams, can a life be lived well, spirits and their motivations, domains and gatekeepers, whether you¡¯re in or out, the sun and the moon, we all need to eat, life can still have meaning, money or food, selfishness and fear of death, sex or is your dick not working, what do you want, what do you need, I¡¯m just asking, what can you live without? Brownies As a poet, I''m at most a medium for whatever spirit haunts me, my soul is old and has encountered many things, all sorts of ideas, and creatures in the abyss, they all have their interests, and so much aligns, the Southern Gentleman, under the night, we agree on so many things, a fairy under the moonlight, so much amounts to just sex, but as the blacksmith pounds away, coal, iron, and fire, ask yourself, so much cum, such huge boobies, pepperoni nipples, a brownie laughing, what makes any of this real? Schrodingers Cat The past is anchored to the present, as the moments progress, your feelings and what could have been, so many ghosts and demons, banging your childhood girlfriend, what a delight, like a cherry cupcake, daddy like, everything that could have been, do decide the place you currently stand in, the future echoes, the natural conclusion, according to where you are, and the spirits that fill your cup, in the realm of possibility, so much happens, your dad and your wife, alone in a room, they¡¯re already banging, if you don¡¯t look, the pussy both excited and orgasming, purring, such a happy kitten, and dead, abused and bleeding, does anything really happen, or alone in this room, reading this poem, is that the only thing, that¡¯s really in existence, across the line, did I go too far, you know what, life happens in so many ways, so many spirits seek satisfaction, I live in the West, but I¡¯m Asian, reptiles and mammals, and their everlasting war, good and evil, yin and yang, our DNA, and astrology, my puppies, Zeus and Pluto, which identity should I serve, yearning for peace or balance, stagnation or death, what I would do if I had time to think, measuring eternities, the depth of a cup, the weight of emotions, Spongebob under the sea, the stars in the sky, the moon beckoning, in hell, I¡¯m a general, looking ahead, I¡¯m in the hospital, in the valley, a water lily waits for me, partake in this daily bread, this broken road I¡¯ve been walking, the spirit of the world, and the story of the people, so many following the plot line, where is it leading, this whole time, it¡¯s just been strings pulling, mermaids beckoning, pulling you into the abyss, I should have been happy as an IT analyst, but alas, here I am, with nothing, this whole time, offering what wasn¡¯t mine, an angel falling, safely into my arms, I loved it and gave it away, she saved my soul, but now it¡¯s hers, on my knees, she has taken everything, the weight of this spell, the price of a poem, fame and fortune, the moon, and her judgement¡­ A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Quarantine I wish I was a crocodile, sitting in the swamp, for weeks, pretending that I want to eat, but satisfied to do nothing, and just sleep, cold-blooded and unstimulated, children may not understand, but the heavens understand the value of everything, happiness, elation and ecstasy, are anchored in depression, carelessness, and addiction, and jokes may be funny, but you can be sure, if you laugh, it will rob you of something, as steady as a reptile, and unfeeling, or grounded to the earth, and buried six-feet deep, is so much greater than hanging off the edge of a cliff, wise and knowledgeable, a vampire who fed on the innocent, god forbid I become famous, a star hanging in the sky, Earth 838, Nelson Mandela, was he even imprisoned, I¡¯m for sure in a jar, under a microscope, being tested and examined, so deep in the matrix, I¡¯m just gold, reacting to oxygen, what is sin, born of a possibility, Mary and her father, Jesus Christ, did the past even happen, carrying it with us, like it¡¯s our personal problem, the sin is in the life that god dared to live, personally, I¡¯m just a poet, inputting words into my phone, according to my education, at most I could be an agent Smith, performing a function, in the garden of Eden, is it heaven or hell, you may live in a jar, but it¡¯s not your jar, the truth echoing, and the natural conclusion, the heavens weigh everything, judged accordingly, because they said so, of what a dream, if only these words meant nothing¡­ Stolen story; please report. Six Feet Under and River Spirits Six Feet Under Art in a cup, heaven¡¯s reflection in everything, fate, just a pen, that understands both the beginning and the ending, a spider that knows exactly what sort of web she''s spinning, the sun and the moon, puppets dancing, life and love, happiness and it¡¯s price, the heavens and hell''s echo, if you ever thought life was great, or a blessing, the echo of a delusion, a mermaid pulled you in, and this whole time you''ve been dreaming¡­ River Spirits The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Demons, a weird faith in an imperfect idea, some simplistic form of power, giving in to something inferior, under the guise of delusion, or an advantage when you¡¯re low and beaten, at most, a reflection or an echo of the heavens, or old age and entropy, the casting away of our morals and the growth of mushrooms, as above so below, where you are and what you yearn for, an echo, death and transition, Uranus or Neptune, how does the spirit flow, will we ever travel the depths of space, or architecture and an intellectual design, on the earth, are we just growing fruits, our dreams eaten, angels hoping for utopia, are we just a bunch of monkeys, living with our delusions, doomed and contained within a prison, so many roads to walk and so many spiritual questions, climb Mount Olympus and come back, tell us, was it worth nothing¡­ Whiteout If anything, poetry is just creating with an eraser, it already exists, put it on paper, snuff out the flames of desire, a conduit, emotion in a vacuum, it¡¯s for you to process, out of my life, and onto the internet, this is just me, the moon and her magick, a poet and his assignment, a student working on his thesis, did it stimulate, did it stir the pot, did it inspire a dream, my research notes, was it useful for something, did you take offense, if this poetry was a person, would he be stabbed and bleeding, buried six feet under, I¡¯ll tell you now, I¡¯m just a mental patient, and these are my delusions, my diary and my healing process, cleansing myself of spirits, refined and tested, a martial artist building his foundation, a wizard and his spellbook, or a virus under containment, are these words worth anything, you know why these words are in this corner of the internet, buried with a hope that they¡¯ll never see the light, desire, and my hope for mankind, sin and my shame in the shadows, hiding, whatever, it doesn¡¯t matter, all I really care about is that it¡¯s out of my head, dreams and the beckoning of faeries, selkies, wolves howling under the moonlight, ultimately, a slave serving the heavens¡­ Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Young River This whole time my youth has been echoing and I''ve been judging him, imprisoned in my room, a snake biting his tail, refusing to let him in, my punches and kicks, my words like blades, under the night, I''ve only been harming myself, the past and the future echo, between a rock and a hard place, beneath your daughter¡¯s panties, a brownie, a contained innocence, a man hoping to pass with a joke, but the heavens place their pieces, checkmate, he dies, wondering if he should have tried harder, buried six feet under, out of the light, swimming through the abyss, satisfied to settle with his wife, he was just a boy, living with the echo of what he could have been, egged on and tempted by faeries, being called a coward, emotions filled his cup, a fruit passes, does he dare to lunge for it, his education, what the heavens were building, steady steps and carelessness, discovering the world, a sequence of questions, arranged accordingly, weighing their value, according to his personality, ultimately, a lazy kid, a willing slave, not daring to think, but bored, and accepting of string, circumcised and tested, a servant of the heavens, a snake and his selfishness, who was he really serving, each question, measured by the heavens, the truth and its echo, a reflection of an answer, reality, and simply what exists, eternities, and god¡¯s memory, blasphemy, shame, and a roller-coaster, age, and a dwindling of desire¡­ This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Art Class Fear, and understanding, the world and it¡¯s people, the river, the land, and the spirits that inhabit them, it¡¯s what drives a lot of this, maybe a lot of art is the same, the sun and the moon, a diary entry, a good will, a hope for humanity, simply a good idea, or a beautiful form, shame and enticement, light and its absence, education, art within a template, and echo of yourself, and your perspective, art is something that¡¯s so costly, it consumes so much, like heroin or cheese, it can be addicting, knowledge and information, power and structure, I¡¯m not really a fan of it, it¡¯s like a spell, it gets you high, deludes your mind, fucks you, and throws you a towel, clean yourself up, Chris Tucker, a passing ball, waxing crescent, Bikini Bottom, spewing crap, the assignment, and procrastination, is there really a test on Friday, who knows, if you were truly blessed, you wouldn¡¯t bother to care¡­ If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Desire Path This world is old, and the ocean goes deep, who put the stars in the sky, the deep magick involved in humanity, creating astrology, so many spells and dragon veins travel through this place, all sorts of world trees, intercrossing, and finding each other through the forest, so many dreams, paths and roads to travel, so many people, looking for a way, all sorts of desires, and so much to achieve, templates and experiences, all sorts of cups, for a spirit to fill, the world has been around a long time, so much death and violence, sin and blasphemy, so much has been done under the sun, rituals and sacrifice, good and selfishness, the flip of a coin, how would you play it, the demarcation point, reality and your perception, the devil between the lines, marking everything, and echoes of dreams fulfilled, eternities, and the depths of the ocean, hoping to pass, generation Alpha, the ball rolls, the fruit passes, ask yourself, what would your father do? This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Ritual under the Sun I''m like a can of Pepsi, the heavens take a drink of me and I don¡¯t even know, they do so much with my reflection, I''m just sitting here and my mana just flows, who knows what an eternity is, or the price of poetry, how many pieces of bread is needed, to feed all the fish in the sea, the sun and the moon, should we care, are we a family, youth and their education, what sort of strings will pull, looking back I remember the world was involved in so much war, history, mammals and reptiles, manifest destiny, the cookie crumbles and we fall to a side, but maybe take a second, and think of the plight of humanity, we¡¯re all born young and innocent, growing up, there was so much tripwire and red string, the sins of the father and what the children have inherited, the work we put in to pave the road and extend the branch, so much laziness and carelessness, thoughtless actions and ignorance, I was also the same, but maybe bow your head, your mother and father watching above, think of home, somewhere you belong, it¡¯s for you to decide, sure, freedom exists, but so do the price and the weight of sin, feelings become turbulent, sometimes they call for a sacrifice, do it for the community, a willing virgin, giving in, rolling down the hill, a stone falling into the abyss, shame and a poet, your ideals and what you serve, and what they happen to be outside of it, watching it as someone else, under the night, where I fell, the price of words, a snake and goodwill, don¡¯t look down on people, your neighbor¡¯s wife, the sun, your father echoing¡­ Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Why I Serve Why does everything have to be something, it¡¯s annoying, just me and a jar, god¡¯s reflection, and an ocean of reason, if the heavens cared, they would allow it to mean nothing, alas, it¡¯s not my jar, I''m but a man, when I started writing, I was a boy, starting my education, laziness and it¡¯s price, running from my father, shame under the moonlight, offerings to my mother, what does it matter, I don¡¯t know, the stars and their echo, I''ve always been a technician, zombie sex, I''d rather not involve feelings, alas, strings pull, scattered seeds, and how the cookie crumbles, a level ten wizard learning spells, magick and losing my virginity, it¡¯s who I happen to be, a Filipino, and a laughing brownie, the height of the heavens, and Helen of Troy, I can only bow my head, I¡¯m just not that funny¡­ Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Four Ninety Nine I really am just a fruit, strawberry jam, in a jar, outside of me, wherever there¡¯s a chance, my dad is fucking my wife, checkmate at each step, is it weird to say, spritely, the sun and the moon, they love each other, who can stand against it, we exist simply because of our ignorance, little dolls and puppets, stuffed animals, on the roster, fighting and stealing, rewarded under the moonlight, slobbering on boobies, all I can do is complain, my head bowed, my mother and father, lord knows, they pay for everything they eat¡­ If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Sardines Is there still good in the world, I can¡¯t quite remember, so deep in the sauce, are there still valid dreams left to live, you married your wife, had children, a white picket fence, a little puppy, you advanced in your career, became a manager, is the sky still blue, is downtown still somewhere you can walk around, unhindered and unmolested, how come when I look around, I see demons watching in the abyss, feigning innocence, how come I see my mother and father, a spider and a web, fish-bait and a fisherman, lord knows, as my shadow travels, he must pass through so many questions, there¡¯s a lot of sex, and a lot of stabbing, vampires, what my father would do, the moonlight rewarding obedience, oh lily in the valley, how many times must I bow my head, such a lowly slave, I always fall for it¡­ This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Anna or Tanya If I walked the whole way, each life, and each grueling step, maybe I would understand, and I would have a reason, to fight that whole war, to hold onto my job, remain a technician, become a level two analyst, if I studied I could be an engineer, or a cloud architect, if I joined the military, maybe I would have kept my desk job, as a strategist, I studied, became educated, and graduated like I should, but my heart was aching, maybe it wanted to run, but it kept yearning to be a soldier, and to fight a war, haha, maybe not, maybe he wanted to settle, and not think about all that, win the lottery, and marry into innocence, the height and responsibility, if you saw it from here, it wasn¡¯t really appealing, but if I had a reason, maybe I would have stayed committed, I''m just wondering, if the spirit dared, could it live any type of life it wanted to live, or am I just a collectible in a jar, the sun and the moon, and the height of the heavens, what is an eternity, or immortality, god¡¯s memory, payment and grace, cheap and lazy, a cowardly poet, why dare to do anything, so many characters, it¡¯s like there¡¯s only ten of them, this world, just a big snake den, Uranus and Neptune, are there even children, so many daring, Adam and Eve waiting, settling by the river, that deep dark abyss and the next thing, will I ever make it out of here, a water lily and a bumblebee, god in all the small things, a heart as big as the ocean, the sun and the moon, they can tolerate so many things, just a collectible, along for the ride, copied and pasted, so many doors, I¡¯ll always exist, does the river flow outward, am I in the belly of the whale, or am I an army of fish, anyways, I was just saying, not even Anna or Tanya, there¡¯s something great about it¡­ Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Your Father asks a Question There are still rules to life, contracts in the sand, what demons agree on, under the moonlight, good is still good, and evil is still evil, just because the mind can twist, and perspective becomes weird, perceived innocence, and chances in the dark, fruit is still juicy, if it is a cause for envy, you can be sure there¡¯s a price, the sun and the moon, and their magick, the changing of the seasons, and gears locking into place, everyone with their turn, under the night, what the heavens allow, wolves among sheep, discipline and denial, so many doorways, between the lines, generation Alpha, and all the space to fill, so much yearning and desire, work and plot lines, desperate ghosts, and their satisfaction, freedom, your daughter¡¯s panties, and fucking what¡¯s close to you, maybe this whole time, it was the sun that was writing, or the Southern Gentleman, your mom and dad, I can only bow my head, and hope to escape responsibility, I too, am a sinner, but I live to obey, cowardice and courage, along the line, wisdom and a price echoing, forever selfish, dead reflections, reality echoing, demon hunters don¡¯t understand, the depths of the ocean, the blue of the sky, nine to five, knowledge, good and evil, feelings build, doomed to dance, the clock ticking, just a voice, the demarcation point, can you make it out alive? 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Sun Sign You live in a jar, why are you so concerned with reality, I''m just a poet, apparently it¡¯s my job, writing, according to my config, a voice or an everlasting fruit, the sun and the moon, a bohemian, we''ve always had one job, to sing and to dance, we¡¯re just collectibles, but maybe our complaints are funny, our ideas of what¡¯s good or evil, just worms squirming on Buddha¡¯s palm, the heavens measuring each decision, the ever-present question, when will our heads enter our ass, faith and love, what do they mean, just strings pulling, brownies laughing, and scattered seeds, maybe everyone¡¯s an idiot, all we can be, reach for the light, so many questions, just follow the rhythm, stay true to yourself, pride or envy, we¡¯re just kids, waiting for our allowance, our leaves can¡¯t help but grow, but trust me, dig deep, roots in the earth, real treasure is measured by your worth, alas, we¡¯re all clean slates, gathering dirt, your idea of heaven and your father watching, chance and underlying architecture, everything under the sun, rewards and work, pain and suffering, the heavens measure, tick tock, how the cookie crumbles¡­ The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Beckoning Mermaid No matter who you are, or the depth of the matrix, you¡¯re bound to believe in something, conspiracy or the government, nationality or freedom, whatever we¡¯re concerned with, or our interests, questions that the stars ask, seeds they plant, as the river flows, according to our dreams, the truth echoes, mother earth, the people, and their decisions, all work must be done, spirits fill our cup, our domains, and what is an eternity, age, and shadows, the lives we dare to live, the threat of reality, and a poet''s curiosity, the cookie crumbles, and I must be evil, blank spaces, a pen, and the hand that writes, dig deep, anchor yourself in the depths of the sea, complaints and grievances, children, yearning for mother¡¯s milk, rebellion, or settle by the river, the game or be a loser, lord knows, in this jar, those you looked down on, are already eating, the mad hatter waiting, you¡¯re late, the gong echoes, so many demons in the sea, innocence, your idea of heaven, a snake on a journey, youth, love, and life, what¡¯s good, your daughter¡¯s panties, the price of a joke, the demarcation point, a jar and an echo, bat¡¯s in a cave, spiders and their webs, growing up, there¡¯s so much tripwire, why allow it, who knows, how does a river flow, in the end, we¡¯re all fruit, juicy, raised under the light, sprinkled with water, and filled with emotion, whoever we are, at most, a zombie dancing, we¡¯re doomed to be eaten¡­ Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. title in chapter Natural Breasts Knowledge and art is yin, so is sin, the sun, viewing the world as him, life as a main character, a price echoes, water lilies and delusions, collectible in a jar, it''s better to be ignorant, architecture, and engineering, it¡¯s manly, is swordsmanship gay, what about comedy, in a jar, bats in a cave communicating, a universe eating, fisherman and young rivers, what does any of this matter, craftsmanship, hours and experience points, scattered seeds, heaven hides, how a man earns his food, how he eats, his mother, in the belly of the whale, the stars and a black salamander, life has always been grotesque, ideas and the depths of hell, art in a blender, under your daughter¡¯s panties, but your dick isn¡¯t working, the divine comedy, and the heavens laughing, manifest destiny, do you dare to say you¡¯re good, an empty throne, the burden of kings, so many questions, at most I¡¯m a poet running, food and mother¡¯s milk, rewards under the shadows, the sky covers her chest, the earth, deep in the valley, what¡¯s under her skirt, so much good in the world, coveting treasure, rubies and pearls, so many demons, the water flows, tracing the lines of the river, fruit doomed to be eaten, babies and impregnation, DNA and sequence, the answers to the test, the Chunin exams, nerdy girls, ugly men, sweet Hinata, will you be my girlfriend? 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Please report it. title in the chapter Faggot of Sticks As people we do what¡¯s easy, we fuck what¡¯s close, according to emotions, their facility, but we¡¯re in a jar, the depths of the matrix, so many questions, who you dare to love, your family, and what you¡¯re close to, protons and their neighbors, your daughter¡¯s panties, I don¡¯t care enough to be evil, but some things are just better to do, opportunity and chance, a fruit passes, how easy, just eat it, only god can judge me, poor arrangements, a volleyball coach and his intentions, watching from miles away, the heavens watching, laughter echoing, rape, a willing virgin, so much fruit, bloody pomegranate, and the sixteen steps to eat it, a daring poet, and a price echoing, youth and understanding, studying for the test on Friday, good will, a life we dare to live, obvious answers, low-hanging fruit, in the garden of Eden, good or evil, what does it matter, snakes and their selfishness, the beauty of the truth, that lovely fruit, don¡¯t look directly at it, reality echoes, what you dare to do, seeds are scattered, and the question is different, depending on your perspective, a thin line, and a flowing river, greed, the moon and an offering, flower petal, wet lips, jokes, whispers, and the taste of fish, under the stars, the heavens watch, you and your sister, deep water, alcohol and whimsy, mistakes and the morning after, do you want to do the laundry, curious pussy, a slap to the face, fuck around, find out, so much regret, this whole time, forbidden fruit, is it obvious, desire and love spells, my loins stirring, under the night, the moon of Lilith, are you daring, do you want it, wave your wand, your bundle of sticks, a fat cat watches, understanding, god forbid, this is too gay, the princess and the pea, the sun and his judgement, rituals in the light, pretty girl, white sundress, why do the heavens even ask, so many children, trust me, feelings, your measurements, the pastor¡¯s daughter, your father knows what¡¯s in your heart, a mushroom tip, a poet and the price of comedy, if there¡¯s ever a chance or an opportunity, and the thought crosses your mind, whether you were daring, as the river flows, humanity and architecture, you can bet your ass, and your wet pussy, nothing ever happens, without approval from the heavens¡­ This book is hosted on another platform. 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Our Daily Bread One works, and another eats, the river may flow, but we''ll always be collectibles in a jar, this earth, worms, mermaids, and unicorns, eternities, we¡¯re just a bunch of snakes, and under the heavens, we''re all stupid, there¡¯s so much magick, and open doors, so many ways for a spirit to flow, the sun and the moon, strings pull, and we''ll dare to eat our own tail, is this a natural desire, who knows, the most we can do, is wriggle on Buddha''s palm, the heavens watch, and eat all our desires, the truth echoes, and we''ll always be the virgin, are you willing or is there rebellion, a struggle or a rape, the cookie crumbles, the answer is obvious, so much blood in the river, so many mistakes, scattered seeds and eternities, clean slates gathering dirt, and the river Ganges, ghosts, spirits and demons, perception and old age, a volleyball coach and his intentions, watching from miles away, knowledge and growth, salesmen yearning for the ignorant, sinners desperate for innocence, magicians and old vampires, biting into virgins and gathering their flocks, so many desires, we are but men, only so many hours, our plight and our struggle, the ceaseless flow of time, servants of a clock, under the sun, our sin is measured, so much freedom, eat as we will, it may be encouraged, lord knows someone will pay, food in your belly, your daughter¡¯s panties, again and again, Sisyphus and his boulder, Icarus and his flight, melting wings, humanity and our plight, our sadness, farm animals, we¡¯re pigs, so dumb, stars in the sky, and we don¡¯t understand, we¡¯re wrong no matter where we stand, all this poetry, if you gained something from it, I''m sorry, spirits filled my cup, I yearned for it but couldn¡¯t hold on, I had to pass, the echo of a dream not lived, thank the heavens, the stone rolls, and I can still eat, puppets and our string, a bowed head under the moonlight, drinking from the spring, a poet and his hope, that they were just words, dreams and their sustenance, satisfaction and the obvious, cheese and heroin, my father watching, still hoping to escape, satisfied to be working, honey in a jar, rules, the heavens and their judgement, broken-head, the river flows outward, scattered seeds, children growing, where will you settle, the West extends, never greater than the world, so many questions, the sturdiness of a container, equality under the stars, spells, dragon veins, and what demons agree on, spirits fill your cup, why should we worry, why should we struggle, manifest destiny, self-fulfilling prophecy, and obvious tripwire, what¡¯s good, will the moon always be a reflection, starvation and desperation, rainfall, can anything really be gained, we¡¯re but men and women, so many watching, our hope for the future, so many children, will we survive, who knows, god willing, we can only keep going... 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Pebbles on the Beach The moon pays me in dreams, it¡¯s like nothing is gained, but the experience is great, yet my life is continuously drained, the price of this poetry is so great, shadows and ghosts, virgins and vampire bites, reflections of the truth, tarot cards, possibility, and honey in a jar, dreaming of Yuri, a poet doomed to yearn, hope and magick in the air, grasping at the moonlight, delusions and enticing ideas, the sun and the moon, and a third guy guarding the door, stimulation, an offering, and an allowance, love and taboo, expansion of the mind, knowledge and red string, brothers and sisters, humanity, daring to love, equality under the stars, I live in a jar, and all I know is nothing, just like Socrates, we¡¯re just bats in a cave, communicating ideas, nothing is really achieved, separated by a barrier, unable to touch anything, me and the stars, and the realm of possibility, all my friends have been raptured, I let go of the world, and now I have nothing, just limitations, and more questions¡­ Royal Road is the home of this novel. 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Kyle If you could be summed up by a poem, what would the title be, that¡¯s the thing with poetry, it has a spirit, something it wants to express, in so many words, it tries to say each with each aspect, just imagine being god, creating a person, something so grand can only be done by the heavens, or a woman, it¡¯s like, with a seed, the heavens try say everything, such a grand ordeal, and very much attempted, in each person, a god is hiding, a universe waiting to feed, Adam and Eve, their judgment, the sun, the moon, the stars, a fisherman, a demon, if a seed is meant to be scattered, it might as well be prepared and ready to defend, so many warriors, a soldier, one of the greatest things a person can be, each action, a wave of a hand, like a thousand blades, seen from each perspective, in the realm of possibility, all that it can be, or has to be, art or mathematics, men and women looking at the stars, outside of it, yet within their minds, contained is everything, a scientist examining the structure of an atom, a blacksmith hammering, god is this, and the bumblebee in the water lily, our history, simply the heavens and their judgement, all they wanted to say, composed and enclosing, the universe talking to itself, the height one can reach with a pen, a person, a tattoo, and the value of words, or lettering, the god of fonts, autism and each aspect, if it¡¯s small here, it¡¯s only distance, not even Anna, not even Tanya, if you ever thought you could be proud, sin has always been the same, what we inherit from our father, and all the work that has to be done, clean slates gathering dirt, and old age, something so beautiful, yet something imperfect, nerdy girl with glasses, Ohio and all the unicorns, the composition of a life, in the distance, is the river Ganges waiting, or which way is the water flowing, sin, cos, tan, we are but men, I can¡¯t get everything¡­ Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Red Witch Earth 838, outside of it, all our friends and family, are living their dreams, the fae and possibility, such deep wells, unfortunately, we¡¯re stuck here, in this jar, all that love and life, the happiness on their face, cupcakes and their delight, it¡¯s something we''ll never quite see, but if there are any virgins out there, under the sun, working hard for their dreams, an ideal world, a new idea or invention, something wonderful we haven¡¯t seen, just know that all the losers, anyone you looked down on, so many demons, they¡¯re already eating, pealing the wrapper, under her skirt, wet and slippery, sore and puffy, a red witch indeed¡­ Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Band of the Red Hand A soldier is one of the greatest things a person can be, lord knows, so much has to be done, and under the heavens, all truths must echo, deep in the abyss, through hell''s gates, along the river, across the jungle and the valley, under the moonlight, an army of demons sing and hum a tune, they gaze at the heavens, the sky bare to them, and they howl, as that fat lady sings again and again, strings pull and each soldier hears the queen''s call, the assignment, the work prepared for them all, lord knows, this succulent fruit, as they place their lips on it, and thank the heavens for their blessings, they know that all their struggle and their work, it was all worth it, through the gate, a faery tempts you, take off your shoes and come to me, walk through the garden, your mother is calling... Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Wolf As I dreamt, and as I flowed along the river of my life, I bit people after I fucked them, with the hope that there would be a reflection in reality, maybe it¡¯s normal, a natural instinct for a vampire, under the moonlight, so many dreams, and so many truths echoing, who am I as the cookie crumbles, where do I stand when I land, under the sunlight I''m but a man, but in the shadows, my reflection is a hunter, a seeker of truth, smelling the air, looking for dreams and yearning, brothers in the shadows, my eyes open to hunger, under the night, blood and sweat, the stink of meat, the fruit passes, the question has been asked, we already know the answer, willing and eager to offer satisfaction¡­ This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Red Rubber Ball I almost thought I could stop life from happening, but I can at most spend the spirits that fill my cup, wherever I stand I''ll be wrong, there will be conflict, and life is doomed to happen, and as the cookie crumbles, although I''ll deny it under the sunlight, I could actually be evil, and as the sun and the moon weigh my sin, who I am, my reflection under each question, along the line, the river waiting along the valley, my bare feet may already be dipped into them, crackers and chicken soup, shake and stir, a vanilla milkshake, the ocean waves push and pull, my head bowed, the shadow of my father, I understand and I know to obey, my mother calls, and my knees shake, the weight, as I bear the pressure, under the sun and the moon, I am but a man, and I will crumble, a puppet as strings pull, the heart of a warrior, the obedience and love of a slave, the stars watch, looking for my brothers, they turn their heads, a fruit passes, who picks it up, and will they pass, blending into the shadows, I wait for the night to pass¡­ Enjoying the story? 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Unicorn Blood As a person, I''m at most, a part of the web entangling humanity, under the stars, doomed to do my part, an agent, representing the place my chess piece lands, so many shadows exist, and their reality depend on sheerness of the veil, within the depths of the night, what are you willing to believe, within the depths of the abyss, the softness, mermaids and unicorns, such free-flowing titties, as children grow, they wonder and they dream, such a beautiful girl, pearly white skin, and so clean, your father watches, and he arranges your place, the questions you¡¯re asking and the man you want to be, and while you¡¯re wonder, he¡¯s in a room with your childhood crush, making babies, feeding on the blood of virgins, you don¡¯t have to acknowledge it, but the sun and the moon, all the faeries and the dragons, your pumping heart, the depth of your love, they will continue to dance forever, feeding on eternal fruit, the spirit is ever-flowing, my flesh can feed so many, so hungry, young blood, demons and their satisfaction¡­ A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Virgin Spirit Why does anything happen, it simply does, it¡¯s like someone building a road, he does it for something, the echo of something that used to matter, but as life goes on it simply becomes nature, it''s how the seed is scattered, like water flowing downwards, according to gravity, but people are born of seeds made of fire, their life follows the flames of their desires, and they build their road according to all sorts of reasons, the sun and the moon, and a river of spirits, if they ever looked back, they may not even remember why, it simply happens, strings are pulled, and we¡¯re just dolls and action figured, all that greed and desire, life requires so much effort, if it¡¯s done right, it could just be zombie sex, going through the motions, between a rock and a hard place, something squishy and wet, the cookie crumbles and I exist, taking up space, the weight and accumulation of my sin, if the world were to look, all this poetry on the internet, would it be worth their care or judgement, I don¡¯t quite know, why do I write, under the stars, just a pen, a poet, simply heaven''s expression, the echo of selfishness, this honey in a jar, so many spirits, they demand satisfaction, life and love, it happens each time, ghost of a poet, heaven and a gravestone, a dirty dish rag thrown into recycling, dirty sheets in the laundry, wet and stinky, all work must be done, there¡¯s so much cum, the stench of your butthole, the taste and smell of a sewer, a dirty swamp, emotions and undercurrents, unfortunate connections, do you dare to care, bats biting into fruit, feeding on emotions, trying to ignore love because it hurts, but maybe we all get bit, the branch extends and life comes for all of us, it¡¯s just food, flesh and juice, so much blood, broken skin, don¡¯t worry, just dig in, in the distance, hell¡¯s gates waiting, bow your head and give it a kiss, faith, art, and music, between the lines, do you care, mushroom tip, push it in, plant a seed, satyrs and their mating season, consequences, in a room, processing, under the light, the machine churns, blood sausage, young spirits, and old beasts, a time and a place, the stars align, according to fate, the right opportunity, dreams and yearning, words and puzzle pieces, the sun and the moon, why anything happens, who knows, a nest by the river, a place to live, the fruit we eat and a price waiting, fast food restaurant, small dick, four inches, not really your business, our mother and father, just a poet, I''m not worried, building a road, so much effort, wondering why, in a jar filled with reflections, a young soul and the echo of each possible dream, in the distance there¡¯s so many questions, desires and their fulfillment, sin and an ocean of reasons, wild princess, your father smiling, love and each expression, what we care about, so many hills, foundation building, towers based on delusions, whatever, it probably doesn¡¯t matter, why am I here, who knows, life simply happens, a universe needs to eat, maybe become a fisherman, poet in a jar, mildly intrigued and daring to teach, the truth echoing, live, laugh, love, do you care, no one is listening, everything under the sun, generation Alpha and all their considerations, so many jokes to be made, did it already happen, or maybe it will always be on the horizon, the next millennium¡­ Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Mason Jar I can¡¯t quite seem to grasp, so many questions, and so many seals, young spirits, and willing virgins, discerning and considering, whether I''m a part of the jar, because I see life from my perspective, the middle path, main character syndrome, there¡¯s an infinity barrier outside my mind, but if I''m being viewed from outside of here, anywhere else, in the depths of the matrix, I could very well be the sun and the moon, a part of the jar, performing a similar function, but alas, live, laugh, love, twenty first century, I''m also a person, and as the branch extends, with the echo of the future, I wonder, nudes and dirty paintings, mushrooms and flowers, spells and incantations, fruits and preservatives, does any sort of life depend on this¡­ Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Slaves Does the world exist, why do I suspect that no matter the depth of your spirituality, are you homeless on the streets, a monk or a sadhu living on honey, whatever wealth, or your money, your connections, your family, love and sex, your body count, whether men or women, the depth of your sin, your hunger and the sweetness of the fruit you¡¯ve tasted, that no matter what, we¡¯re all equal under heaven, at most, as we gather resources, skills and ability, we''ll have more delusions to deal with, like the stars found out what you were good in, strings pull, we are but men and women, doomed to be working, the moon is a hungry bitch, so much war and bloodshed, for Helen of Troy, lord knows, we¡¯ll dance till we¡¯re dead, our corpses buried and rotting, till she throws you in the laundry, to wash the grime, and do it all over again¡­ You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. The Abyss You have to think of ignorance as an experience, it may not last forever, considering the scale, the ball rolls down the hill, gathering dirt and grime, ability or whatever wisdom it can think to conjure as it falls deeper and deeper, so maybe cherish it while you can, and don¡¯t be tempted as the mermaid beckons, hesitate, don¡¯t dare to go deeper, I can probably tell you know, as humans we don¡¯t need so much, our hunger is defined by what we¡¯ve already eaten, who are the happiest in the world, of course it¡¯s the virgins, able to walk in the light, not having to consider whether to cover their eyes, there¡¯s a limit to our achievements, so why try, doomed to roll down the hill, but maybe let go of the fire burning, be a corpse, a stone, inanimate, if the heavens demand you work, maybe be lazy, allow them to pull strings, alas, we can¡¯t really fight it, their spirit filled our cups, and it was them who built our hearts, questions and skill allotment, we landed here, doomed to burn, and hoping to die again, oh, to be young again, innocence, a reflection of the heavens¡­ If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. 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The Sun and the Moon A family of spirits, like a pantheon, god divided, as a part of a conceivable whole, old souls and demons, companions, each what the other needs, less for one, more for the other, contained, each part making up for the other, one yearns, another hungers, and their father, eating the fruits of their labor, heaven and hell intertwined, your mother and father, the sky and the earth, the sun and the moon, making sweet love, forever and ever, the universe talking to itself, and a snake eating it¡¯s own tail, is it appealing, masturbating, don¡¯t dare to look, so many unfortunate truths, and forbidden fruit, your daughter bends over, what you¡¯ve been waiting for, lusting after, the time is now, or maybe next time, maybe you can say never, hungry and yearning, the demarcation point, lord knows there¡¯s pain and suffering, deep regrets, hatred and grievances, for a life not lived, or for the innocent killed, if there is an age to the soul, what¡¯s left, simply more unanswered questions, eternity after eternity, did you say no, what about the cat, curiosity and an unguarded asshole, answers to the quiz, where we fell, the cookie crumbling, maybe aim for something more, you may have a chance to make up for it, all work must be done, go to war, for Helen of Troy¡­ Enjoying this book? 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Fairy Dust It either comes before and becomes the motivation to do it, or comes after it¡¯s done, a spell that has been cast, a weaved web, something to act on, the waves push and pull, in the next moment, another action, seasons come and go, the stars in the sky, a deeply embedded architecture, the depths of the abyss and all the undercurrents, strings pull and you''d do the same, according to the situation, and the scattered seeds, grow where we may, so much work to be done, why do we do it, the branch extends, all these feelings, summed up by a fruit being eaten, the sun and the moon, again and again, how the cookie crumbles, so many dragons and old ghosts, yearning for the innocent, the echo of so many lives lived, your father caressing his hand through each part of it, the culmination of feelings and the depths of hell, dreaming of something real, but what does it amount to, simply a life you dared to live, money and the height of our ambitions, what can wealth buy, so many opportunities for the innocent, so many ways, for the fish to bite the hook, real it in, the taste of raw flesh, so juicy and wet, so much sex, a hole opening, a deeper hunger, waiting in the distance, a vampire needs to feed, we require sustenance, satiated by words and ideas, just a poet, a mermaid beckons and you jump into the abyss, then you wake up, it was just delusions and dreams¡­ This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Cracked Eggs If you¡¯re within a jar, the moon can perform all sorts of magick, people, their yearning and desires, all their intentions, or their worries of their image, who they are and how they¡¯re perceived, it¡¯s simply a part of what the jar can be, songs can change as you listen to them, operating system errors can occur according to your intentions, in the depths of the matrix, angel eyes, and snakes climbing trees, a burning bush, freedom and chance, within containment, in this life, it''s up to you to recognize your fate, the depths of your heart, attaching strings, in this life, and the next, the vast expanse of space, do you have dreams, anything can happen¡­ Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Operation Readings are Optimal Can a person outgrow their identity, acceptance that you¡¯re legion, broken head, the fact that you die in all sorts of ways, this honey in a jar, at that point can your mind flow outside of it, in what way would the situation change, men and women, god¡¯s hand masturbating, would anything matter, and would there be such a thing as freedom, what your spirit found comfort in when you were younger, open doors, and how a ghost would flow, programming, characters, puppets and how string pulls, a grand architect, a visionary and an artist, making movies, and binding them to VHS tapes, bumblebees and water lilies, the echo of god in all the small things, essentially what a human is, so many ideas, naturally someone has to preside over them, deal with all the issues that arise, within their realm of responsibility, but as we work with computers, who knows what sort of things of things we connect to, servers and switches, Ethernet cables, in a way it connects universes, and so much possibility is dependent on this sort of connection, in a way it¡¯s like a prayer, still under the domain of the heavens, the sun and the moon, if there was a manifestation of their humanity, what sort of bullshit would they have to deal with, in the end this may still be honey in a jar, and for each of my intentions, there could be a natural reaction, the heavens make their voice known both in the future and the past, if anyone cared to listen, it¡¯s obvious to see that the universe is speaking back, the depths of hell, and the echo of all sorts of mistakes, maybe the river flows and the stone rolls down the hill, what does it matter, maybe rules still matter, stay in your lane, opportunity, and the right person for the job, safety and security, and staples of life, live, laugh, love, I¡¯m just wondering where I stand, peace and a boy in a bubble, as we grow older, old age may be the same for anyone, all the stuff we cared about, matters less and less, the flames of desire dwindle, and we become satisfied with the idea of death, and value changes, after riding the roller-coaster and playing the game, we find a place to settle, and we become eager for rest, and we may be satisfied, to be occupied with questions for which we already know the answer, and we rejoice when we¡¯re able to offer simple responses, passing off responsibility, playing dumb, and overall, being happy to see innocence, content to play our role, and say our lines with eloquence, what a wonderful thing, when the question is easy, or better yet, when there¡¯s whispers hinting at nothing, still waters, and the sweet sound of silence¡­ If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. 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The Milky Way If we''re ever lost, we can always follow the world, and see where it¡¯s going, born innocent, growing and choosing a direction, the echo of our past and all our lessons, so many dreams on earth, maybe this is the lobby, in the realm of possibility you¡¯re living all sorts of lives, dreams and whispers of sin, so much fruit to obtain, you can and you should, it echoes in the distance, an achievement worth fighting for, as I see it, your spirit will grow old, and the stone will roll down the hill, you should try your best to do everything, polished by the river, and see what fits, stretch your leaves, poke your head through and see what¡¯s on the surface, go deep into the valley to see what sort of flowers are waiting, alas, I can only see it from this perspective, but I have no doubt, a place you can accept, reach for it, so much waits, where you drive your spaceship is up to you, heaven and hell, intertwined, love and life, greatness and the abyss, yang and a splash of yin, shake and stir, vanilla milkshake, under your shirt, do you wonder, what¡¯s around the corner? Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Cold Calls and Validating Existence Cold Call Why would a master sell a knife, if not to incite conflict, the emotions filling his cup, his way of satisfying them, there are so many spirits wandering the world, they have grievances, and they demand satisfaction, spells and magick, energy fills up and you cast them, it¡¯s October, and I hear it in the distance, a new year waiting, and the rumbling of thunder¡­ The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Validating Existence The echo of ability, is it even real, or does spirit fill your cup, you can either do it or you can¡¯t, you go through training and get your license, who knew, you could fly a plane, in reality it¡¯s so much to consider, but as the water flows, it continues to happen the same, taxi drivers and their experience, pizza delivery, how are you going to pay him, live and love, in some places it may not even be a valid existence, just a shadow or a reflection, an echo of a truth, that happens, simply because, if the cookie crumbles, that¡¯s where it would land, the fae have questions, maybe we shouldn¡¯t even consider why, but they continue to ask them, the world ripples, so many frogs and snakes, we¡¯re all in a pot, the water may be tepid, but eventually we¡¯ll be boiling¡­ Is It Big Enough What can you really do, When speaking to a ghost, Your words may decide their fate, If that was the case, Of course, you would wish them the best, Honey in a jar, Your mom working for human resources, Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? 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Like a weird first date, You can only really try your best, The sun and the moon, Weaving a bigger picture, Just try to be natural, The echo of questions, The unfortunate truth echoing, Dare to look down on people, Consequences will be waiting So many gravekeepers, Who dares to stay here, To rest and use the world, Maybe it¡¯s worth is measured, Payment may always be required, The river flows, Weight and lightness, The depths of your hunger, The bigger picture, Your intentions, Checked at each step, Life and love, So many ghosts, How unfortunate, Uranus or Neptune, Fields of flowers, Delusions, So many reasons, Whatever¡­ Your Father Said So Something, whether it''s rape, murder, or theft, in the eyes of the heavens, the ever-burning sun in the sky, it¡¯s better than the alternative, nothing happening or occurring, sure, rape is demeaning, and murder hurts, but in the eyes of the heavens, these feelings are still positive, opposed to its absence, humanity''s plight, they don¡¯t care, they''ll actively help you, to commit and get away with it, or if you end up in prison, rotting away, they''ll still make sure it¡¯s worth it, but to do it, and partake in that sin, costs a part of your humanity, the deed done, it¡¯s something you¡¯ll have to live with, for some, the answer is obvious, there¡¯s not much consideration, the chick was too hot, you had to jump for it, the cookie crumbled, where did you land, amongst the other beasts, in the depths of the abyss, partaking in bread, day after day, again and again, the holy maiden, bread for everyone¡­ This story originates from a different website. 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Cain and Abel If the food that enters your mouth is too delightful, you were numb and inexperienced, a virgin, but your lips tasted it, the soft flesh of fruit, the fragrance, such a delicacy, if it¡¯s too delicious, for the starving man in the desert, it can break it, the sense of reality he''s been building, the walls that tower over the city, his understanding will crumble, and he''ll go crazy, the height of heaven''s pearly gates, on his lips, he may not understand, quite how to handle it, in many ways, this is why heaven is forbidden, not to mention the tribulation of tasting it, just your neighbor, watching as you caress it, would his heart care to bare it, wielding an axe he¡¯ll break into your room, all work and no play, it makes Johnny a dull boy, red rum, spirits filled, with the culmination of emotions, hard work and effort, blood, sweat, and tears, humanity, our plight and our suffering, for someone to consume the fruit that it¡¯s bearing, blasphemy, calls for crucifixion, maybe don¡¯t ask, don¡¯t tell, it¡¯s uncomfortable to know, the burden of knowledge, it¡¯s not that enjoyable, for horns to be growing, a demon was birthed, because a man saw what his neighbor was eating, live and let live, you and your daughter¡¯s lips, don''t care, live, laugh, love, we may all be doomed to go to hell... 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