<font color=#713131 face=times new roman size=2>twinkle twinkle little star; how you shine%01 how bizzare</font>

twinkle twinkle little star; how you shine, how bizzare
Posted on February 22, 2012 at 00:48:58 AM by twenty-one

I'd rather be a could-be if I cannot be an are;
because a could-be is a maybe who is reaching for a star

Twenty-one was slowly beginning to realize that life was nothing more than waiting for death. Each minute that passed you by was another step in the opposite direction of living. Minutes henceforth turned into hours which turned into days, months and years. Pretty soon the accumulation of time only had one outcome; death. It was in this logic that the pale sandstone beast was finding his last strands of sanity. He was eagerly holding onto the thought that his end may be just around the river bend. To most other inhabitants of the Islands this may prove to be a gruesome and unsightly way of thinking, but to Twenty-one it was normality. Nothing was the same anymore except for the passage of time. He was clutching this very notion with an unyielding iron grasp of sanity; he was holding onto it for all that it was worth.

The waves crashed gently upon the shoreline lulling the unstable beast to sleep. The tangy saltiness of the ocean pierced his fleshy chutes with a distant familiarity that he enjoyed so much. Emerald Pool had been home to the sea, and how he had missed her lullaby of watery music. He allowed his mind to run blank now as his lids held tightly closed across his sapphire orbs. Nothing mattered in this moment except for the own realization of his own being within the universe. He was alive yet headed towards death with each passing moment. Nothing could prevent this from happening and he embraced this sickening twist of �the circle� for all that it was worth.

A baritone call roused him from his deepening slumber. Heated agitation settled across his roman profiled features as he reluctantly snapped both lids open and exposed his pools of fresh ice to the world. His gaze cuts out to the shoreline where his eyes settle upon a mud painted youngster looking about for some sort of life form to approach him. A deep resonating grumble of frustration boils up into his throat and releases itself silently upon the salty air before he shifts his limbs into movement. Pale cream flints settle down into the white sands of the Dunes as he crests the rolling and unstable footing of a small knoll before pacing, with feather weight steps, out towards the intruder. Twenty-one levels an experienced and age wise gaze upon the newcomer while simultaneously flicking his lobes to and fro in short bursts of curiosity and anger. Keen eyes roll over the immature yet thick frame of the beast before he locks his emotionless gaze upon the earthen toned stag and forces neutral words from his maw.

�Something I can do for you?�

twenty-one
Andalusian/12 Years/Cremello/16.2/Male

Replies:

Long Lasting Change - By Craigen February 29, 2012 at 08:53:50 PM

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