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Saturday, October 16, 2004
the rose, she sleeps,
closing herself from eyes of creatures that wander about in the midst of the night. oblivious to the darkness, she lives to see light unbeknownst to her roam unnatural beings; not alive, yet their hearts are still vampires that hunt blood sharp fangs stained crimson lust running through their veins as she dreams of warmth and light inflicting terror in the night sharp fangs puncture silky smooth skin drops of red trickling; wine-like substance screams echo through empty halls and still she sleeps, oblivious until the first rays of light gently brush their fingers against her velvet petals she awakens a new day begun the darkness recedes as if it had never been and creatures of the night flee from first light Alysia S. procrastinated again @ 5:08 pm 
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