ShackledMuse

You stroke her cheek with your gentle touch, yet in her eyes i see only disgust... she smiles weakly at your lingererd gaze, but the shimmer in her own eyes already fades - till there's nothing but the blackness of night; just a deathly void, a desperate plight. I saw the bruises on her shoulder, and my hate for you turned even colder. With your iron grip on her tortured mind she's trapped and broken, your slave confined. Was the process of breaking her part of your plans? Because you are now holding those broken pieces in your hands. Broken in soul and broken in spirit; is your quest for control really worth it? Think

Sifting back through the memories of where i grew up, a dusty little town, barely on the map. Between nerens and nowhere, primarily known for being unknown, hated it at first. but i'm rooted here; from here grown. A 6 year old girl, sitting outside my parents' cafe on a crate, never thought life's journey started there; MY way. It shaped me into the woman i am today, and i'm proud of the people who had a part in my life's play. Ordinary folk, who told me legends and tales around a fire, setting my imagination in motion as the flames flickered higher. I soaked it all up, engraved it in my memory; life's fables while the o