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vallisca axe murderone a quiet little street,sits an old white framed house.
now when you walk by nothing seems different.look closer and you may notice the locks.
on the other side the house hold tourter.
that demon never came to justice.
but what happened to those children needed no justice.that evil man that took there lives should of had his taken too.
he awaited in the attic till the right moment came.
he polished his axe and wondered down the stairs.dressed in black to conceal his face. not thinking of thier pain.
when he found them all asleep in there beds.
he didnt change his mind he just laughed an evil smile.
he stepped back a pace and took i swing that axe went to thier heads.
he was never found out but his fried was,call him vile.
he hid in the shadows of the attic.
polishing his axe.a crazy look of a lunatic.
he wondered down the stairs and killed those sweet kids.
he killed six he confessed on the EVPR.
but when those kids slowly died.
he fled the sight of the crime.
this man should run. he
the haunted hart of Johannahyou came and you left without crying.
i saw your eyes stained with tears.
crystal blue eyes glistened in the pouring rain.
you father was a jealouse man when he heard you found love.
so one night he left you at home alone and he went out on his own.
when he saw your lover his head filled with rage.
he took that knife and put it to his throat.
then he left him there in the forest a pile of leaves acting as a death bed.
your father kept it secret for as long as he could.
but soon you found out aand it broke your sweet heart.
but by then your loers life was already gone.
so you took it upon yourself to saught this man out.
you came u with a plan and hoped it would work.
that night you made tea for you an your dad.
he never realised that he had been fooled.
but you my dear you couldn't bere the pain.
so you ran to that secret room and you wrote a love song to your dearest sweet hart.
then you left and ran down to your club.
you sat in your dressing room and that deadly drink.
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More