

coldThe cold and the dead, I should be going to bed. My mind moves to the decomposing corpse of something once loved. There is no heaven above, only hate and the cold dead feeling it brings. I look forward to tomorrow but at the same time tomorrow comes the future and with it all the helplessness and sadness. I have to wonder if this is the virus speaking, the cold that once more creeps into my veins like so many other kinds of cold afflicting me. how long can one hold an image in there head? Does is somehow mean more if you can see it when you close your eyes or when you defeat the evil thoughts that try to ruin the very things that make you hapcold


The CycleThe anxious mother awaits the birth of mans a fate, Reproduce for the betterment of mankind. Her mark has already been left on the following generationsThe Cycle
The old man eats his cake, Grandchildren play with there skates in the hall. His time here had been long but pride is found overall.
Finding content in the tranquil sound of her children the young mother settles in for a cold night. Doors closed curtains tight she prepares for the cold night.
The news is scary but the old man's green eyes have seen it a thousand times, The televisions outlook has always been wary. He knows what he see's is not in stone f
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