Den of the Cyphered Wolf

Sunday, March 30, 2003

Identity Crisis of my Youth

Who am I?
What will I become?
Am I black enough?
Do I work well with authority?
Do I let authority take a way my dignity?
Do I have maturity?
Do I have joviality?
Am I creative?
Am I realistic?
Am I lazy?
Am I determined?

A Day Wasted

Time Time
It's quarter to three
My work takes two hours
I’ve got nine
Rest a bit

It’s now five
Okay sevens fine
eight o wait

Time to work
a yawn comes out
I started but stopped
6o minutes is needed
can’t focus
can’t concentrate
can’t come up with an idea on the fly
nap some

What happened eleven oh sigh
I can stretch a half hour
but I’m so tired
Twelve thirty out like a light

Tuesday, March 25, 2003

Sliced Fight Scene

“Pick up your blade or I shall pull out you heart said Miunavia”

“I was trying to keep you from your death but, if you want to perish so be it!”

Max’s great sword instantly went from the ground into his hand and just as quickly went to the spot were, milliseconds previously Miunavia had been standing. Her katana was ready with a swift counterattack that Max had barely been able to block. He took his giant sword and laid its weight upon her blade. The world seemed to quake at the collision of metal and might. They pulled apart and began a new her blade on his, his blade on hers. She was as fast as he was strong and he was as strong as she was fast.

“Why did you do it?”

“I have done many things.”

“Why did you kill my father?!”

At that Minuavia reached into a rage she herself did not know she possessed. A rage that she did not know she had the capacity to possess. Her blade became as air. It was so quick that it could not be seen. It sliced threw air and then it touched flesh. It was a small wound but a wound all the same. Max decided to stop toying with the girl He then lifted his sword and cut her in twain.

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