His eyes twinkled with surprise and then a shadow of a smile crept across his stoic face. The smile was really in his eyes. It was a candle behind a window in the middle of the night. And the smile in his eyes did not fade for quite some time.
'This war has to end.' A quiet thought. 'This war has to end.' A louder thought. “This war has to end.” I murmured it. “This war has to end.” A loud mumble. “This war has to end!” I said. For the hearing impaired, “This war has to end!” “This war has to end!” Nearly a yell now. “THIS WAR HAS TO END!” I shouted.
I had lived in the Gishlan forest all my life. And it was beautiful! I loved it! But the popular consensus is that this world was made for wanderers. I mean, just look at the gypsies who live off of the coins people throw at them! Or the scores of lovers who elope! My own king had met his wife through restless wandering! It was a tradition in Gishlan culture! A tradition named VanderRumk. At 31 years of age I've decided it's high time to seize my destiny and have my own VanderRumk!
Head bowed between my thighs Blood shot eyes Tears along my face turned to ashes It's hard My back was turned when you stabbed me I bled confusion and betrayal I felt your presence As I faded into space my heart bulged out of my chest with regrets.