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Date Posted: 11:55:37 07/07/02 Sun
Author: Vanit y
Author Host/IP: 216.135.92.70
Subject: xX sing.a.song.of.death Xx


.x| maiden o' ivory pelt darted o'er sod in a suffocating cloud o' dried earth. particles swept about 'er frame, drank up by 'er dialated nasils, entoxicating the life o' she |x.

.x| ebony blood coarsed through her rugged frame work, wirey locks cascading 'nto the vision o' she. flames o' hate and malace burnt deep within 'er soul...only to be trapped by the conviction o' others |x.

.x| captured souls are not made for toys |x.

.x| monument strode elegantly 'way fro' terrain, graveyard giving no appeal unto 'er sight |x.


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