

Callings of the DeceasedThey cry out, yet are never heard They walk around, like nothing happened To them, we are the strangers in their world Some like to cause mischief Others are shy Some like to hurt us Who is to say why? They cry out and moan For they are in great pain They cannot cross over so who is to blame? The woman in the black dress Her face shrouded in mystery Her past is unknown Did she have a place in history? Who was she? What was she like? How did she die? We may never know.Callings of the Deceased


The VisitorThey hover over the world, observing Who are they? Who is to say? Perhaps they come in peace.. perhaps they come to cause terror These faceless beings from other worlds like only we can dream of These strangers to our world, perhaps intergalactic tourists. They could come and abduct you or simply to converse These tourists of the stars Are just here for some fun But, these are just our imaginations?The Visitor
Right?
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love, waves, and weed (a little expansion never hurt either)
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You've got red on you.
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love, waves, and weed (a little expansion never hurt either)
--
You've got red on you.
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Gallery: grycat20.deviantart.com, Website: www.strongandstacked.com
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You've got red on you.
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