Post by darkhyuuga on Sept 7, 2007 23:33:36 GMT -5
lol i'm actually in the process of writing a real book . but thats not fun talking about... plus thats been on hold since skool started... (my dads been naggin me) but o well. whats fun is jus writing for fun... this was really fun to write ;D:
AND so they laughed. They’re eyes towards the sky and they’re cheeks flushed. They’re nostrils tightened by the smoke in the air and streaks of sun burnt red in their hair. And just as the men and previous laughers had precedent-ed before them… they laughed without conflict, without strife, and without blight. They laughed so that they created floods of merriment to warm the icy winds. For now… they ate sthingys of honey, swallowed sweet wines of rice, dreamt of maidens in silk. For now…. They were well fed, warm, and strong, while the famine that howled in there hears was finally silenced by their cackles. While the sights of the plagued were merely cast off in the guise of they’re laughter, while the cold winds were warmed by the merry cinders in the pit of they’re hearts. AND so the count threw the cape over his head, and the constable jarred with the bandit all aware that poison guised itself under questions, while bliss blossomed from plain and blind faith.
AND has it had been from the pervious great laughers and merry makers, this laugh, like all laughs in a world of small hope, had became a sign of war to the plagued who were cast out at this time… A time for change, in a barren world that has yet to give fruit let alone something that would please the matador blood that surged through the men who idly clunk and drank before the battle. There is no enemy in a war like this… there are no wins in the hearts of these men, just a thirst. And in arrogance and ignorance they have prospered. They would not live to see who won, or lost, whose clan was disbanded and who’s took throne. There were no boundaries and concubines, no spoils, no prisoners, no conflict previous to the battle to come. Just a mutual feeling that it was time for one. An itch in the soul of everyone who had come to laugh today, that could only be swelled with the satisfaction with the life on someone else on their hands and death by someone else’s. AND so they laughed. Like the men of Saramyr before them. There eyes staring Ocha in the face, and their teeth gleaming in glare of Nuki’s eye.
AND so they laughed. They’re eyes towards the sky and they’re cheeks flushed. They’re nostrils tightened by the smoke in the air and streaks of sun burnt red in their hair. And just as the men and previous laughers had precedent-ed before them… they laughed without conflict, without strife, and without blight. They laughed so that they created floods of merriment to warm the icy winds. For now… they ate sthingys of honey, swallowed sweet wines of rice, dreamt of maidens in silk. For now…. They were well fed, warm, and strong, while the famine that howled in there hears was finally silenced by their cackles. While the sights of the plagued were merely cast off in the guise of they’re laughter, while the cold winds were warmed by the merry cinders in the pit of they’re hearts. AND so the count threw the cape over his head, and the constable jarred with the bandit all aware that poison guised itself under questions, while bliss blossomed from plain and blind faith.
AND has it had been from the pervious great laughers and merry makers, this laugh, like all laughs in a world of small hope, had became a sign of war to the plagued who were cast out at this time… A time for change, in a barren world that has yet to give fruit let alone something that would please the matador blood that surged through the men who idly clunk and drank before the battle. There is no enemy in a war like this… there are no wins in the hearts of these men, just a thirst. And in arrogance and ignorance they have prospered. They would not live to see who won, or lost, whose clan was disbanded and who’s took throne. There were no boundaries and concubines, no spoils, no prisoners, no conflict previous to the battle to come. Just a mutual feeling that it was time for one. An itch in the soul of everyone who had come to laugh today, that could only be swelled with the satisfaction with the life on someone else on their hands and death by someone else’s. AND so they laughed. Like the men of Saramyr before them. There eyes staring Ocha in the face, and their teeth gleaming in glare of Nuki’s eye.