stonequeen

     For 200 years we have stood, and for 200 years we have watched: waiting for those poor, lost souls to come stumbling down the path.     We are only able to act during night, unfortunately. Those awful contraptions the Twolegs run weave between us noisily under protection of the sun while we are only able to whisper among ourselves the harboured resentment we hold for all moving things. It's difficult to -     Oh, now what is this?     ..yes..what is it..we can't see..     ..no, no..can't see..     It appears one of the wretched cubs has found us, brothers.     ..foun

Stone cold, cold stone. Burnt flesh, broken bone. Jumps, Flashes, Memories. Who do they Belong to I think As I touch Stone cold Cold stone.

How I long to be a child. To be naive. To believe in the stories that every little boy and girl live in. Love would be a beautiful thing known only as princesses waiting in castles for their prince to rescue them from a fate of desolation and loneliness. Christmas would, once again, be the warm lights and cozy fires that created a barrier between the big, scary world and the mini-utopia within the walls of my home. But this sickening nostalgia does nothing more than drag my heart through the cracked, dry land of the desert. The world is nothing like I imagined it to be; the malicious intentions of humankind loom in every corner and the se

It's still surprising, Why can't I see? I can't have you, like you have me. And I never will.