Writing Assignment Draft2

A peace of the beast
Uproar of the beast
Cry evil to the beast
Cry evil in the least

We cannot grasp it
We cannot achieve it
We only loose it
We only abuse it.

The peace is burden
The burden is heavy
The heavy is building
The building is falling

The beasts took it
The beasts destroyed it
The animals lost it
The animals forgot it

The hate we make
Burns the love we create
And the love we create
Came a little too late

It cries through the
Dark blinds the
Beasts falls to the
Shadows under it all

We only think it
We only say it
We never do it
We never believe it

Writing Assignment #4?

A Peace of the Beast
The peace of human kind
Nor good nor evil
Only a figment of your imagination
In your simple little mind.

We cannot grasp it
We cannot achieve it
We only loose it
We only abuse it.

The peace that once ruled
Over animals and beasts
Exterminated through greed and lust
The victims of the beast fooled.

The beasts took it
The beasts destroyed it
The animals lost it
The animals forgot it

The peace that has caused death
Fires and blazing bullets
Tormenting anyone in its path
Giving no ones time to catch breath

The peace wept it
The peace burned it
The peace murdered it
The peace did nothing

We made this peace
The peace didn’t make us
Therefore we must make peace
Because peace doesn’t make us

Final Draft

Two eyes peered out of a small box filled with darkness. The Being in the box listened to evil tunes in slow minor key at the beat raindrops. The raindrops came from a dark gloomy sky that looked upon the Being inside the box.
The Being dreamt of little daisies singing lullabies and a little angel beating its wings. The daisies danced amok in his mind skipping to the childish tunes. They stomped on the angel’s wings as it repeatedly tried to fly away.
The Being had no one to hold, no one to talk to, to one to be. The only thing he had was an evil spirit that lurked in his mind, in his heart, in his soul. The devil it could be or just the horrific memories of his past. The Being had no where to leave this evil spirit, tied down by chains and locks created in the darkest hottest pits of Hell. Attempting to break the chains the Being ripped and pealed away his skin to a point where he was no longer recognizable. His feet torn to pieces, looked up at him screaming with anger. Screaming dead thoughts that brought back the darkest of memories. The murdering murderer that murdered who he loved the most. The loving lovers that loved him the most were now dead but still beating in the wings of an angel. An angel that was trying to fly away but couldn’t. Suddenly the angel inside the Being batted its wings one last time and flew to the air. It rose up and up and up until it obliterated the heavens into a million pieces.
The Being looked up and saw a sunny sky. He looked out and saw a field of daisies. He looked down and saw no chains. The Being got up and stepped into a real life. It was a life where the Being could no longer be held down by chains and taunting memories but a life where he could just be.

WA #2 1st Draft: Once upon some time

Once upon some time, some place, somewhere, a boy sat in a box. A box the size of a normal house but had no doors and only one window that let in no light. In the box the boy sat in a blank white room staring out into a dark stormy sky. Raindrops tapped at the window whispering little secrets to every corner in the room. The boy sat in an old wooden chair. He rubbed the splintered wood with his little boy fingers. In his mind he dreamt of sunny days with his father and mother, but past his mind a force kept him from his dreams. He could not stand up, he could not move. A single light occupied his mind and all he could do was dream his little penny sized dreams.

Sitting upon the windowsill was a small potted daisy with petals the size of an infant’s fingernail. The white petals sat there in a group laughing at the boy sitting all alone. Every minute that went by a petal fell to the ground and smoldered to an ash from the burning sorrows oozing from the floors. Another petal replaces the last one singing the same taunting song to the lonely boy.

Oh little boy,

Where are they?

Where could they be?

No one but you,

Dreams the dreams,

The devil dreams too.

The song went with the beat of the raindrops and the maddening tone of the room drove the little boy crazy. Left alone in this cage, like a beast, like a murderer. The white ceiling closed down on him and the dark melodies poisoned his troubled mind, trying to reach for the window but nothing moved. He looked down at his feet and his shoes took shape of a mouth, “Dream you a dead dream!” one foot cried, “Kill like he killed them!” moaned the other. His fingers ripped from his hands flying to the shadows but finding none. Frightened fingers searched for shelter and took to the petals. A daisy with fingers as petals grabbed for the soul of the boy. It reached into his head and felt around the burnt crusty memories. Every time a finger reached further for a dream the burnt memories fell into the hole where his heart used to be. He looked into his own eyes and saw the devil looking right back.

In the boy’s soul, that was in his heart that was on the floor that was in this blank white box was a little angel beating tired wings. The angel reached for a small hole in the boy’s soul and took flight. He broke out and tore for the sky but met a ceiling oozing a burning sorrow and drop to the floor in a million ashes.

The petals stopped singing and the rain stopped beating. Through a crack made by the dead angel sunlight crept through and met the boy’s face. He opened his eyes and reached for the light. It grabbed him pulling him out of his blank white box and for the first time he knew what it felt like to be free.

"Bad Murder" Final Draft?

“He” was the problem…

The air was full of buzzing tones and flying melodies. Nothing was standing still until he opened his mouth. Each joyous note and each harmonious scale toppled down and broke like a million glass beads raining on a million glass windows. His words poisoned everything, with every breath I took hatred and arrogance slipped down my throat and seeped through my body. His continuous scale of words came out in a minor and hard fashion, leaping off his tongue biting at all they could. It was like an alarm clock that wouldn’t turn off and the only way to stop it was to throw it against the wall. I threw the stubborn maddening clock against the wall and watched as the springs and noisy “beeps” and “clangs” came to a stop. But I recover my mind and realize the clock was only figment of my imagination. As soon as I do, I hear the words hit me again like a screeching tire against hot pavement. This time he is standing up and in my face, he’s laughing about what he did like a hyena would as it wrings the neck of a baby antelope. I can’t understand how he could laugh at something like this, something so hateful with only bad intentions. The tears of the poor victim drop to the ground like big rain drops on an old tin roof. Each drop sounds like a bomb going off only pushing me to connect my fist across his face. Knowing that what he’s done has hurt someone so bad runs my blood cold but only to heat back up with anger moments later. I am recalling the moments before when the air was alive with distinct harmonies and I then see the hurt and frightened notes in the eyes of the wounded. My blood was pumping hate and revenge poisoning the rest of my body I turn to the nearest object and split the side his head. Collecting myself yet again I realize that no such thing happened.

By now I’m looking into his eyes and see nothing but hate and egotism. I know the only reason for his actions were to hurt and anger those around him. So I tell him, “Hey if you don’t shut the hell up, I’m gonna come over there and inform you on how it feels to get hurt”. He only chuckles knowing that he’s pissed me off to a peaking boiling point. He then let’s out another series of infuriating squeals like a pig who’s awaiting a shiny blade and a cutting board. I bring down a knife on his neck. His bodiless head looks up at me laughing at my failure to shut him up. If only it were to happen, if only.

Rage begins beating from my heart tingling in my fingertips, reaching every corner of my body. I look down at a crying soul and then look up at the source of all the sadness and hatred. I see everything, everything that is not good. I realize that with this blazing fire fighting against me I will not succeed by blazing back, so I bend down with an open hand. The frightened melody looks up and touches my hand. At that a wave of beautiful sweet song bursts into the air filling up every nook and cranny. My tide of ire slowly recedes and a cool breeze soothes my wounded mind. I then realize my emotions of hate and fury would only lead me to hurtful violence.

An angry man bangs at the closed doors in my mind but he is hushed by a melodic tune flowing through the air. The man then finds that the constant banging is only a burden holding him against an everlasting tune. He now sits and listens to the song and will stay there because he knows what will happen if he is let out.

BLOG #1 "Bad Murder"

Hate and arrogance began spilling out of his mouth filling the air with words never meant to be said. He kept running his mouth and wouldn’t stop. It was like an alarm that wouldn’t turn off and the only way to make it stop was to smash it against the wall. The anger was pumping out into my blood and with every heart beat poisoned my body with rage. I used every ounce of self control I had to not pick up the nearest object and smash his head in; a crushing battering blow, BAM! Oh how sometimes you get so damn angry getting pushed and pushed with no reaction until suddenly you return the favor, BAM! The feeling you don't want out is banging and tearing in your mind begging to get out. It breaks the glass and comes full force eliminating anything in its path. The thoughts and outcomes pop into your head, what if I do this, what if I do that. It would make everything better if I do this, but be so much better if I did that. Grinding your teeth together to work out the anger, biting your lip and tasting the blood created. So angry, your just so damn angry nothing can stop you. Tears begin to come, it seems something needs to come out and without the violence it begins coming out through tears and blood and sweat, only created by yourself. A tangled ball of anger and confusion settles in your stomach doubting whether to walk away or not. Seeing him sitting there laughing knowing what he's done has just pissed you off so much to a point where you really can’t control. Well good job and you just break the nose, BAM! Man it felt so good, too bad it was just in your mind. BAM! A knee to the face, the satisfaction is so good. Too bad it’s still in your mind. Will that person just shut the f**k up! They’re laughing and laughing but you know you can’t, you just can’t. You step toward them and push, but it’s not enough, the tears streaming down your face. How did they think they could do something like that, just so damn arrogant and hateful. The thing is, is they can’t do something like that, oh no, not to you. Not to anybody so you want to teach them a lesson. Your fists are clenched ready to swing at anything that moves a little too quick. Heart beating so fast you feel like everything around you is spinning like you’re in a dream but you want this dream to stop so BAM! You picked up your brand new acoustic guitar and broke it right across his face, wasting $500 never felt so good. Too bad it was only in your mind. Knowing that if only you did, you would scratch and kick and thrash your way on top until that laughing stopped and the tides of rage receded. Looking back on what he did you get even more angry and start throwing stuff around. Thinking about that laugh and thinking about how he thought that he got the better half of you. Maybe he did and if he did why don’t you show him the bad half, the bad half just broke your nose, BAM! Ooops! Now what is he gonna do? He's gonna not even think about doin it again. He knew he meant to impose hurt with what he did, he knew that he wanted to see the person he hurt cry or become so embarrassed they never want to show themselves again. What a damn pig for him to do that, and you just want to wring his neck, blacken his eye, make him try to feel that kind of pain that he caused. It’s horrible, horrible all around. Every bit of the situation is bad, but you can’t take it you just can’t take it any more, not one more time. It has to stop, so BAM you make it stop! The rage pumping through your veins filling in every corner of your body. But this time it wasn’t in your head, suddenly your breathing goes down, you look down and see the person lying their bloody, and you know how they feel. In the blistering hear of the moment you broke down and you turn to yourself asking how could you ever inflict so much pain on somebody. BAM! You look around recovering from a bad dream and realize the feeling you just felt will always be in your head, and that’s where you'll keep it forever, cuz you know what’s gonna happen if you let it out.