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I have a million stories that bubble and collide in my brain. To get these out and on to paper is a compulsive need. An alcoholic craves the drink. A junky craves heroin. I crave the written word. ~Angi King~

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Monday, March 22, 2010
There once was a maiden so lovely and Fair
Set out in life with a hope and a prayer
She came upon a beast of fire and Flame
What a Pity; she thought it could be tame
Tried as she did she could not restrain
The beast and its will Could not be slain
The day did come the beast arose
Casting aside its bounds with mighty blows
Spells were woven as visions came
Sadness, grief, love and shame
Anger, Happiness, Hatred and Passion
Emotions washed over her in a wave-like fashion
Utterly spent by everything she felt
Before the Beast she respectfully knelt
Openly she admitted what she did was wrong
To hold the beast captive for so long
She promised to exist in the same land
For without the beast life would be bland
Agreeing, the beast promised to entwine
Her soul to whatever the beast had in mind.
The moral of this story is perfectly clear
Not to cage such a beast, just out of fear