Milanity

Through the brush, around the tomb, amber eyes a'whirling, A predator stalks her prey, whip-like tail a'curling. The clouds gather, the wind blows - The sea crashes 'gainst the shore. A predator stalks her prey, closer than before. A storm brews, a hawk calls, Nature's wrath a'showing, Never seen, within the dark, By amber eyes a'whirling.

The Bible of Pookisim. Pookies are to be revered and respected, for pookies are the source of all good things. Praise the fluffy, cuddly, chewed on softness of pookies and forevermore make pookie goodness forever and ever.... and ever. Those who refuse to snuggle the fluffy goodness that is the pookie shall be smited and banished to the onion-stench stuffing place nobody likes to talk about. Those who embrace the pookness shall live in eternal fluffyness and rise up to the land of rubber ducks and stuffing particals... oh and sugar. And so begins the first book of Pookism, Radishes. _-1-_ In the beginning the world was covered with radish

Heat lightning crashed against a black sky, smudged with hues of purple and blue. Tall trees surrounded a large clearing, which was bare of greenery and life, the soil hard, dry and cracked. The clearing was almost a perfect circle, and it was surrounded by thick shrubbery that looked to be poisonous if touched, as well as thick trees and large boulders. The only safe way in and out of the clearing was through a long, dark, and small cave that was seemingly drilled into a large boulder. The cave was filled with crystallized feathers, in vibrant hues locked within glasslike cases. Other such feathers were strewn about the clearing, yet there w

A dance, a trance, an intricate weave, A turn, we learn, what it is to decieve, A friend, a foe, a broken beginning, A scream, a dream, a flight neverending, All for the hope of light everlasting, We journey into a world of requiem.