LlordSsoth

I feel like I am in a bubble, closed off from everything including myself. I am terrified. I feel dead inside. There is truly nothing left of me, but an empty husk, and even that is dying. Life is naught more than a mask I wear. The mask has started to crack and crumble.

Clouds gather and lightning flashes Raindrops and thunder rolls The air is crisp and the earth damp The body cleansed and the soul purified The mind cleared and the heart sent soaring The clouds part and the sun shines       The Spirit is Renewed S. Dillabough

My eyes are blind, My voice is mute, My ears are deaf, My touch is numb, All I have is my love for you!

You walk into the room and my day gets better. You smile and my world gets brighter. You laugh and my heart gets lighter. You say that you love and I give you everything I am.    S.Dillabough

Dragons fly on gossamer wings    while fairies dance under the toadstools. Elves are tapping away on shoes    while leprechauns are counting gold. The Baen Sidhe are quiet     and Mortis is peacefully grazing. All is quiet, beautiful, and serene.    S.Dillabough

There is no happiness in me. The emptiness is crushing. The loneliness is all encompassing. I fear I will never be content.              I am Alone. S.Dillabough

A bright flash,   and a burning hot wind. A river boiled away,   and a building leveled. A child's cry,   and a woman's shriek. A loud explosion,   and then… Silence… Dead silence. The silence of an abyss.   S.Dillabough

        June 19, 1995   Time The dying ache of pain, The rusting of metal. The decay of wood, The crumble of stone. The easing of sorrow, Erasing all memory of a civilization. There is NOTHING that time cannot affect.     S. Dillabough

        Sept. 1, 2000   The Spirit Rider Black as night Gleaming golden light. Silvery cold steel Speeding on twin wheels. Blue and red lights Back in the night. Turning with a squeal On smoking black wheels. His eyes burn with fire He knows he will never tire. He will run all night He won't stop without a fight. Taking a sharp turn His headlight seems to burn. Narrowly missing the shoulder His taillight seems to smoulder. His jacket bursts into fire He looks like a funeral pyre.      S. Dillabough

    The Spell Raven's blood and crow's raucous cry. Dragon's roar and people die. Unicorn's horn and griffin call. A harpy's scream to return you all. To be locked away these centuries five is a story so tragic. This spell is to reveal, and breach, the borders of the hidden realm of magic.      Scott Dillabough