Love For Never More

Loveless. That's what that lonesome girl was. She never had a love in her life. Never had someone to comfort her, to stay with her and murmur sweet nothings to her. She once thought that she liked a boy in her class, but that was just a yearning for someone to be with her on her part. She was very sociable and outgoing with her classmates, but if any of them fancied her, they never showed. She knew that hardly anyone would believe that she was so lonely. In front of her friends, oh so cheerful and happy. Always pretended that she agreed with their stand on other people, people they hated but to whom she secretly sympathised. All she wished for, was some person to come and tell her that he liked her. She tried to deal with her feelings by bottling them up, ignoring them, placing them on the sidelines, but emotions aren't so simple, are they.
Sometimes she just wanted to go and tell some boy she liked him and start a relationship just because she was so lonely. She saw other couples around her, and envied them desperately, but she would never tell, never show. Too bad she didn't, otherwise her secret admirer might have gotten the guts to tell her, but he always thought that she despised relationships.

The Devil (15)

We just ain't going,
Devil's foldin' and holdin'
He can't drag me now.

Beastie's fallacy,
All the Humans', honestly!
Humans can't take it.

Take the glass and drink,
Splatters of blood look like ink,
Life goes on again.

Twenty strands of hate,
Curling 'round the broken heart,
Love for never more.

Feelings

Staring at her, I didn't realise. She just caught my eye, attracting me like a bee does honey. So caught up in her features, her face, every single part of her. It was so powerful, this feeling. I couldn't tell, what it was. Does this strange heat in my face have a name? Have I ever felt something so strong before, such an incredible tension? A force of pure emotion, flooding through my mind, taking up my thoughts, all I could think of was her.
I just kept thinking about her, staring at her, sorting out my feelings towards her. I had never felt such an entrancing sense before, like my senses were wide open for the first time, instead of drooping half-open eyelids.

-

He kept staring at me, analysing me, or so I felt. Did he feel that way to me? Did I feel that way towards him too? I started blushing, the attention too much for a lady to handle. Never had I felt such intensity in a gaze. He just kept looking with a certain longing, and I too to him. I had never felt so distant to anyone else before in my life. Was that what would happen then? Would we? His movement, so smooth, I cannot deny it. I observe his every move and they fill me up more with the strange feeling. What could it be?
And as I realised what it was, I can see by his eyes that he too recognised the feeling now. We were mutual. He walks towards me, nothing in his hand. And thus I approach him too.
As we reach each other, we both start with the same tone at the same time, "I hate you, you filthy swine."

The Temperance (14)

"I can't wait to see what my play will be like!"
His companion just stood, emotionless and motionless. He uttered an ominous phrase, "You'll see."
The playwright ignored his friend's pessimistic remark and turned to the theatre's stage. He watched the unfolding drama with eager eyes. He stood ramrod still and observed. He watched, on and throughout. His expression in his eyes changed, growing dark, hiding a raging storm.

The play came to an end.
The playwright murmered angrily, "It... was censored.... So many works of art... Someone shall pay.."
And his companion stood the same as ever, and uttered, "I did say you'd see, didn't I?"

The Death (13)

"Excuse me, are you Mr Owens?"
"Yes, how can I help you?"
"There's some mail for you, sir. Here."
The man handed him a grey letter, inked in a subtly different shade of grey words.
On the envelope, it read To Bod Owens.
"That's strange, no one's called me Bod for a long time. Not since young...."
The letter held a strange rhyming verse:
It's all one night,
don't miss your flight.
Place your sorrow,
for the 'morrow,
Return, old dweller
join us in the Macabre.
One and all will hear and stay,
Come and dance the Macabray.
Dance and sing and come to play,
With the Lady On The Grey,
She will lead our Danse Macabray.
"The Danse Macabray..... That was a long time ago...."