Angellus-Socios

Cascading falls of warm milk and chocolate awash the taste buds in my mouth.                  But in turn the mind                  samples the velvety drink,                  like a soft embrace from something lost,                  or something right in front of you.                  In the dark room, where                  eyes do not see, but the heart                  creates the setting, the keys                  type away, tak-taking away,                  like the pitter-patter                  of teary rain drops in the night.                               Like wind in my ears, in the sky                    

All my life thus far has passed Too quickly. I am taught that The world has great expectations. That my learned years of youth were Merely prologue. And as I gaze up at the vast sky And watch the clouds Twist And dance Like two merry friends on a night out Their forms begin to frighten And stir thoughts of end times. Thoughts of the warnings of the sightless man Left to cry out to unseen people on the street. They themselves were blinder than he. Thoughts of the prophets long dead Unable to foresee their own personal conclusion. Despite all that I've worked for Everything I've achieved All the things I've learned Earth

 "And that's it ladies and gent's! The winner of the Silver Conference this year is none other than Thomas Markson from Coribi Beach! Congratulations Thomas, and to all of this year's valiant competitors and their Pokemon!" "Man, you gotta admit it. That Markson character really knows what he's doing, doesn't he?" Parker reasoned as he lay on the floor kicking his legs in excitement, his face maybe a foot from the television. The TV showed a close up shot of the new Champion, Thomas Markson, raising his trophy up high for the roaring crowd. It then faded out to show the whole stadium before the airing of the Johto League Championship ended,

In the country where my imagination dwells, my mind, glorious thoughts of reckless creation, lies readied within heavenly                    clouds. It sees for miles and miles high above, reigning over a land of synapse                    insanity. It defies the       logic of the greatest sciences, the wisest      minds, and most influential philosophers. It rewrites reality, a                     God of all things        seen,                     yet unsung, so in all respects it is weak. It fails to complete      its magnum opus, lapis philosophorum                 is beyond it, no time          for perfection