Now let's fix that typo... Writing account of


The Fall of Dalis - 1A dull throb in Sybil's right shoulder greeted her as she stirred at last from the darkness only to be found in the same, for no light illuminated the apartment she was in. Her first instinct was to touch the source of this pain and identify it. However, as her left arm began this journey, it quickly found resistance in the form of a metal chain linking the limb to the wall behind her. Growling angrily, she began to rattle at the restraint in hopes that it had been poorly made and would, by chance, shattter. This continued hopelessly until the opening of a door reached her ears. Lifting her gaze, she could see a faint light at the top of a seThe Fall of Dalis - 1


Blood Is Red - Chapter 1It was the evening of Jayde’s eighth birthday, a day commonly thought to be a joyous celebration for the birthday child and their parents. For the D’Frian family however, it was not. A recent dispute had arisen between Jessica and Ian, driving between them a thorn that drove the latter out of the D’Frian residence. Doing her best to abstain from future conflict with her husband, Jessica D’Frian had kept herself from filing for a divorce. Her interests rested with the thought that, with time, the thorn could possibly be pulled free. With it being nearly a year’s time since the said night, however, the thorn had only burrowed deeper. &nbsBlood Is Red - Chapter 1


Rose That Crescent MoonEver slowly the daylight began to wane The sun, with a subtle pout on cinnamon lips, Sank below that dark, blackberry moor. In one cold draught rose that crescent moon Accompanied by many a tiny sparkling bauble. Into that slate night they settle, giving thatRose That Crescent Moon
Land a silky sheen.
Omega

The Compassionate SoulI haven't talked about any of my female friends? That's true, actually.. Maybe it's because they're even harder to talk about.The Compassionate Soul
Not because they're really more complicated, except maybe that's exactly what I mean. Girls are the ones who say what they don't mean, mean what they don't say, and make a good job of muddying everything up with tears and emotions and lots of other things I wish I personally could forget sometimes. I hate crying. I really do. It makes your nose all stuffy and your eyes all puffy and it's hard to swallow and breathe and just..bleh.
But there's this one young woman I recently met named Vialaeh,
Anexa
p.s.
I left another comment for you on your other account.
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Lara Jade.
larajadephotography@gmail.com
l a r a j a d e . c o . uk
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The beauty of a troubled mind seen only through the fading darkness.
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The only end of writing is to enable readers better to enjoy life or better to endure it. - Samuel Johnson
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