words fled away
I run since then,
don’t know why
they still hide ?
where they are?
what is ahead?
I don’t know
what are words?
I never knew.
i thought of
them once
to be my slaves
But i forgot,
They were the
only ones who
were there within Me
Who came to me,
whenever I wanted
whenever i called
they were My family
Now i Regret and do
Repent,of my sins
ever since.
i don’t know
where they are.
whether they have
declared War
for their rights.
against me,
Who Raped them,
Who Ripped their Hearts,
Sucked Their Meanings
For fame , For money
I Fear,Them now
The Come Back of my
Masters,and ‘JUSTICE OF
THE WORDS’
so I flee like a fly
into the Cruel
Cobweb of Death.
The chimes echoed through the dark house. Each strike followed by another, twelve in all rang out. Through the house the fled, away from the clock that created them.
He fled as fast as he could, darting in and out of doorways, splashing through black puddles, his heart racing the beat of his footsteps in the gloom. It didn’t work, as the murderer caught him anyway.
After the hectic day, he fled the scene, drinking whiskey colored the same as the band worn around his finger, itself not a perfect fit, but one he’d compromised himself with.
I should’ve fled when I had the chance. I knew that if I kept this going on any longer I would regret it. I should’ve shielded myself from the truth, but the truth never remains in hiding. I should’ve known better than this. I had the chance, but it was inevitable.
she fled into the dark with me–her trembling hand in mine. we stumbled across the back porch and over fallen, mossy logs. but we didn’t know what we were running from. her mom already knew. to her i wasn’t even “the boy” i was josh. but she had destination in her hazel eyes.
Outnumbered, broken and bleeding, she had no choice. With her cloak snapping behind her, she fled into the dark, footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the alleyways until they too disappeared.
She grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze to meet hers, and I kept my eyes fixed on the sky behind her. This was a terrible idea.
She said something, but I didn’t hear her – in my mind, I was already fleeing, frantically planning my escape. “We’re not together anymore,” I spat, in the hopes that it would be vaguely relevant to her words.
I fled from you like the toxic mess that you are. You poisoned me. Took everything I had and turned it into nothing… I find myself wondering what I was thinking, I knew I meant nothing to you.
She stood on the dock, a shadow in the dark, but even so, he saw her straighten slightly as he came up behind her.
“I’m not having this discussion again.” she said. “I’m your scapegoat. I’ve got to leave if you’re going to sell it and take your throne back safely.”
His breath was hot on the nape of her neck, and he sensed more than saw the way the tiny hairs stood upright at his proximity. “Come now, Maryam, is that REALLY why you’re so keen to leave?”
She swallowed, audibly, and then whirled to face him, stepping closer to him as though daring him to try something. “You know full well why I’m leaving.” And then, without another word, she spun and marched up the gangway onto the ship. A moment later, the anchor was raised, and the ship was moving away from him. His mouth curved into a wry, unsurprised smile.
So, this was a family of runners, then. She took after her mother far more than she realized. If the stories were any indication. Which, evidently, they were. Too bad.
so there the stars became a fleeing sun,
shams, so I thought when I saw a shooting star
not granting the wishes of my lustrous monetary prophies
the yoking of a middle class man, with an upper class deamanor,
why did I get wedged in this corner again?
with three-thousand dollars left from four thousand six hundred,
with eighteen rigorous units to tremble my freedom to party,
again,
I land in this deserted island without the luxury of coconuts or a beach hut
instead a vacant shed on the back of the island with no view,
lend my tranquility until the subsequent stages in my life flicker me alive again!
“We had been dating for about six months, and he seemed really nice, really kind. I had no idea he was involved in anything like this.” Tricia stirred her tea aimlessly as she spoke. It was already cold. “I wasn’t thinking of getting married or anything, but he was fun to hang out with. But when I heard him talking with his friend about guns and killing people, my mind went blank.
I went home, filled a suitcase and just fled the next morning.”
there she was again, her anger ridden of impatience, which is the mainstay of her off-balancing fuse. Blown to bits as a comet splashing into the concrete pavement. “I am mad, I don’t know why I am mad”, she said in a low tumbling voice. The love was there, underneath of voice, barely surfacing above her voice. “I just now picked you up, we haven’t seen each other for two days; how could you be mad?”, I questioned oddly. She did not respond, leaving me in confusion, the same puzzlement that railed me to think she was using me, for my car, for my resources, to flee her husband. I continued to drive forward. I steered with calmness, composure. After a few traffic lights, my curiosity split the silence, “Lets try and figure it out, because I don’t want to be the reason for your dismaying sadness”. Again, her silent resilience responded, she merely breathed. “Um ok”, I chuckled with a feigned light-heartedness. We drove closer to home, to what we thought of as home, my house–my one bed room apartment that she took from a dirty pig sty with blackened carpets and messy kitchen piles, to shimmering cleanness, with a harsh yet lovely smell of lavender spawned by the plug in air freshener–that she dragged me to purchase. “I love you” she declared with a sound hum. ” I love you to”, said my bass pitched voice. Once we carried in our lap tops, and other school and slumber materials, we sat bedside to talk. She opened the conversation with a startling confession. ” I think you don’t appreacite me, because when I am not with you I feel so hot”, she blurred. “Why would you feel that way? I compliment you on and on, all the time”, I hissed. Then she came to realize something, as she looked at my closet mirror, clarity answered in it’s reflection. “You compare me to other girls, like I am not good enough; I always have to make sure my shorts are not riding up too high, make sure my hair is nicer than usual”, her haranguing transitioned in.
They ran through the streets fleeing the noise. Who told them? Thought Chris. He would soon find out.
They carried on running until they reached the end of the road, and then turned into an alley.. They could hear shouting but didn’t risk a look back.
The voices were getting louder. Belle could make out the odd word, and tried to block the cacophony out. The word she heard the most – monster.
Chris pulled an arm around Belle has they huddled in the corner.
Ivan grabbed his puppy and kina shove him into his backpack, along with the two cans from the shelf, and fled from the store. He ran around the corner of the store and hid between sagging bags of trash and looked protectively of his goods.
The trees were on fire. The villagers had fled hours ago, but one man remained. He sat still in the middle of huts, his head tilted downward and obscured by the rag-tag hat he had assembled out of straw and leaves from the jungle. He had started the fire.
Running as fast as I could, the screams began to dissipate behind me. The cold air, frosted my breath. What killing occurred was now forgotten. I was gone.
He looked over his shoulder. They were there, closer every moment, looking at him with eyes torn straight from the pages of Greek mythology, hounds guarding the gates of something, he didn’t know what. There was no time for precision of metaphor. He had to get away, and quickly. He turned back to the road and ran as hard as he could, leaping over a rut in the road from a tire track that, overnight, had filled with water. He saw his own face reflected there, pale and panicked, before it had whipped away out of sight and there was nothing there again but the road, the road forward, the only choice. He ran.
My courage fled from me just as quickly as it’d come. Telling Mother that I, in fact, did not want to be the next Queen of Verona is probably the most difficult thing. But she needs to know. I can’t keep living like this.
I think about running. I think of it being something negative. It makes me feel like there was something that causes a person to fee. It’s definately not a good thing.
Adrenline is pumping.
As he fled from the scene, he could hear the sirens and screeching of tires surround him as if trapped. But knowing he still had a chance, he ran and ran until his feet started to bleed.
I don’t know what happened. All I wanted to do was leave, to flee from this old life, but what do I get now? Nothing, all I get is a new life even worse than the last. Can I ask for something good for one? For once!
When I was on my way home from the grocery store on Christmas Eve, the snow began to pour down and I hit a patch of ice. As I slid off the road, I hit a telephone pole and my car caught on fire. I immediately fled from the car.
not fled, any word but fled, please and thank you, oh lord that would be magnificent, wouldn’t it? Da da da dododo what a wonderful song this is. WHat to write next, who knows a letter to satan, that would be nice, or a letter to a
I fled from the kingdom. It was overwhelming. There was too much pressure weighted on my small shoulders. I couldn’t take it. I’m not ready to be crowned King. After father’s passing, everything has been absolutely hectic.
I’ve been running longer than I can remember. Fleeing, one would say, from things only I can see. They tower over me, over buildings, bridges, fire and anger and UNSTOPPABLE. I’ve never been so scared. Where can I hide? How can you hide from something that isn’t even real? You can’t. All you can do is put your soul into the ground and hope it doesn’t catch you.
I fled from the scene.
I’ve fled before I could get involved.
My father had fled away with the birds, as if he wasn’t immoral.
I fled from my home, didn’t think of any use being there.
It was no wonder why he was gone so soon. Who would want to be burdened with something as severe as that? It was amazing that she could even handle it. She would never ask that of anyone else.
“Richter?” repeated the bartender, spitting a wad of wet, red tobacco out of the corner of her mouth. “Last I checked, she fled to the northern edge of Wolfhill about three months ago. Hadn’t even served her her signature brew for six months beforehand. Why, you huntin’ her?”
I shook my head. The bartender smiled devilishly, flicking a loose brown curl back over her shoulder.
words fled away
I run since then,
don’t know why
they still hide ?
where they are?
what is ahead?
I don’t know
what are words?
I never knew.
i thought of
them once
to be my slaves
But i forgot,
They were the
only ones who
were there within Me
Who came to me,
whenever I wanted
whenever i called
they were My family
Now i Regret and do
Repent,of my sins
ever since.
i don’t know
where they are.
whether they have
declared War
for their rights.
against me,
Who Raped them,
Who Ripped their Hearts,
Sucked Their Meanings
For fame , For money
I Fear,Them now
The Come Back of my
Masters,and ‘JUSTICE OF
THE WORDS’
so I flee like a fly
into the Cruel
Cobweb of Death.
The chimes echoed through the dark house. Each strike followed by another, twelve in all rang out. Through the house the fled, away from the clock that created them.
He fled as fast as he could, darting in and out of doorways, splashing through black puddles, his heart racing the beat of his footsteps in the gloom. It didn’t work, as the murderer caught him anyway.
After the hectic day, he fled the scene, drinking whiskey colored the same as the band worn around his finger, itself not a perfect fit, but one he’d compromised himself with.
Was it worth it in the end?
a marriage, broken. words said. true and hurtful. this is a sham, but for some reason i can’t run. a habit is the death of us.
I should’ve fled when I had the chance. I knew that if I kept this going on any longer I would regret it. I should’ve shielded myself from the truth, but the truth never remains in hiding. I should’ve known better than this. I had the chance, but it was inevitable.
she fled into the dark with me–her trembling hand in mine. we stumbled across the back porch and over fallen, mossy logs. but we didn’t know what we were running from. her mom already knew. to her i wasn’t even “the boy” i was josh. but she had destination in her hazel eyes.
He fled from the iminate doom that was lurking over his shoulder. Though nothing could stop this dark shadowy creature.
Outnumbered, broken and bleeding, she had no choice. With her cloak snapping behind her, she fled into the dark, footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the alleyways until they too disappeared.
This was a terrible idea.
She grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze to meet hers, and I kept my eyes fixed on the sky behind her. This was a terrible idea.
She said something, but I didn’t hear her – in my mind, I was already fleeing, frantically planning my escape. “We’re not together anymore,” I spat, in the hopes that it would be vaguely relevant to her words.
I fled from you like the toxic mess that you are. You poisoned me. Took everything I had and turned it into nothing… I find myself wondering what I was thinking, I knew I meant nothing to you.
She stood on the dock, a shadow in the dark, but even so, he saw her straighten slightly as he came up behind her.
“I’m not having this discussion again.” she said. “I’m your scapegoat. I’ve got to leave if you’re going to sell it and take your throne back safely.”
His breath was hot on the nape of her neck, and he sensed more than saw the way the tiny hairs stood upright at his proximity. “Come now, Maryam, is that REALLY why you’re so keen to leave?”
She swallowed, audibly, and then whirled to face him, stepping closer to him as though daring him to try something. “You know full well why I’m leaving.” And then, without another word, she spun and marched up the gangway onto the ship. A moment later, the anchor was raised, and the ship was moving away from him. His mouth curved into a wry, unsurprised smile.
So, this was a family of runners, then. She took after her mother far more than she realized. If the stories were any indication. Which, evidently, they were. Too bad.
She’d have made a good consort.
so there the stars became a fleeing sun,
shams, so I thought when I saw a shooting star
not granting the wishes of my lustrous monetary prophies
the yoking of a middle class man, with an upper class deamanor,
why did I get wedged in this corner again?
with three-thousand dollars left from four thousand six hundred,
with eighteen rigorous units to tremble my freedom to party,
again,
I land in this deserted island without the luxury of coconuts or a beach hut
instead a vacant shed on the back of the island with no view,
lend my tranquility until the subsequent stages in my life flicker me alive again!
“We had been dating for about six months, and he seemed really nice, really kind. I had no idea he was involved in anything like this.” Tricia stirred her tea aimlessly as she spoke. It was already cold. “I wasn’t thinking of getting married or anything, but he was fun to hang out with. But when I heard him talking with his friend about guns and killing people, my mind went blank.
I went home, filled a suitcase and just fled the next morning.”
there she was again, her anger ridden of impatience, which is the mainstay of her off-balancing fuse. Blown to bits as a comet splashing into the concrete pavement. “I am mad, I don’t know why I am mad”, she said in a low tumbling voice. The love was there, underneath of voice, barely surfacing above her voice. “I just now picked you up, we haven’t seen each other for two days; how could you be mad?”, I questioned oddly. She did not respond, leaving me in confusion, the same puzzlement that railed me to think she was using me, for my car, for my resources, to flee her husband. I continued to drive forward. I steered with calmness, composure. After a few traffic lights, my curiosity split the silence, “Lets try and figure it out, because I don’t want to be the reason for your dismaying sadness”. Again, her silent resilience responded, she merely breathed. “Um ok”, I chuckled with a feigned light-heartedness. We drove closer to home, to what we thought of as home, my house–my one bed room apartment that she took from a dirty pig sty with blackened carpets and messy kitchen piles, to shimmering cleanness, with a harsh yet lovely smell of lavender spawned by the plug in air freshener–that she dragged me to purchase. “I love you” she declared with a sound hum. ” I love you to”, said my bass pitched voice. Once we carried in our lap tops, and other school and slumber materials, we sat bedside to talk. She opened the conversation with a startling confession. ” I think you don’t appreacite me, because when I am not with you I feel so hot”, she blurred. “Why would you feel that way? I compliment you on and on, all the time”, I hissed. Then she came to realize something, as she looked at my closet mirror, clarity answered in it’s reflection. “You compare me to other girls, like I am not good enough; I always have to make sure my shorts are not riding up too high, make sure my hair is nicer than usual”, her haranguing transitioned in.
When I think of the word fled, I think of someone having fled an accident scene, I don’t know why, I just do.
They ran through the streets fleeing the noise. Who told them? Thought Chris. He would soon find out.
They carried on running until they reached the end of the road, and then turned into an alley.. They could hear shouting but didn’t risk a look back.
The voices were getting louder. Belle could make out the odd word, and tried to block the cacophony out. The word she heard the most – monster.
Chris pulled an arm around Belle has they huddled in the corner.
Ivan grabbed his puppy and kina shove him into his backpack, along with the two cans from the shelf, and fled from the store. He ran around the corner of the store and hid between sagging bags of trash and looked protectively of his goods.
The trees were on fire. The villagers had fled hours ago, but one man remained. He sat still in the middle of huts, his head tilted downward and obscured by the rag-tag hat he had assembled out of straw and leaves from the jungle. He had started the fire.
They fled just before the watch changed, when the guards were at their most tired. Slim chance it may be, they had to take it before it was too late…
Running as fast as I could, the screams began to dissipate behind me. The cold air, frosted my breath. What killing occurred was now forgotten. I was gone.
He looked over his shoulder. They were there, closer every moment, looking at him with eyes torn straight from the pages of Greek mythology, hounds guarding the gates of something, he didn’t know what. There was no time for precision of metaphor. He had to get away, and quickly. He turned back to the road and ran as hard as he could, leaping over a rut in the road from a tire track that, overnight, had filled with water. He saw his own face reflected there, pale and panicked, before it had whipped away out of sight and there was nothing there again but the road, the road forward, the only choice. He ran.
My courage fled from me just as quickly as it’d come. Telling Mother that I, in fact, did not want to be the next Queen of Verona is probably the most difficult thing. But she needs to know. I can’t keep living like this.
Funny how the time we had together has fled…I learned that it doesn’t take much to break something beautiful.
I think about running. I think of it being something negative. It makes me feel like there was something that causes a person to fee. It’s definately not a good thing.
Adrenline is pumping.
As he fled from the scene, he could hear the sirens and screeching of tires surround him as if trapped. But knowing he still had a chance, he ran and ran until his feet started to bleed.
I don’t know what happened. All I wanted to do was leave, to flee from this old life, but what do I get now? Nothing, all I get is a new life even worse than the last. Can I ask for something good for one? For once!
When I was on my way home from the grocery store on Christmas Eve, the snow began to pour down and I hit a patch of ice. As I slid off the road, I hit a telephone pole and my car caught on fire. I immediately fled from the car.
not fled, any word but fled, please and thank you, oh lord that would be magnificent, wouldn’t it? Da da da dododo what a wonderful song this is. WHat to write next, who knows a letter to satan, that would be nice, or a letter to a
I fled from the kingdom. It was overwhelming. There was too much pressure weighted on my small shoulders. I couldn’t take it. I’m not ready to be crowned King. After father’s passing, everything has been absolutely hectic.
i fled behind a garbage box. i fled to the store
i fled from a scary small dog who was chasing me for almost an hour
I’ve been running longer than I can remember. Fleeing, one would say, from things only I can see. They tower over me, over buildings, bridges, fire and anger and UNSTOPPABLE. I’ve never been so scared. Where can I hide? How can you hide from something that isn’t even real? You can’t. All you can do is put your soul into the ground and hope it doesn’t catch you.
I fled to this place that led me to another place that brought me to this new place that made me fled out of my misery
i fled a scene today and i freaked out because i didn’t know what to do. it was a scary scenario to be in but i somehow managed to flee the scene.
i fled the scene. i fled to somewhere. he fled from the place. i fled free.. i fled away. fled free. i
I fled from the scene.
I’ve fled before I could get involved.
My father had fled away with the birds, as if he wasn’t immoral.
I fled from my home, didn’t think of any use being there.
I fled
It was no wonder why he was gone so soon. Who would want to be burdened with something as severe as that? It was amazing that she could even handle it. She would never ask that of anyone else.
“Richter?” repeated the bartender, spitting a wad of wet, red tobacco out of the corner of her mouth. “Last I checked, she fled to the northern edge of Wolfhill about three months ago. Hadn’t even served her her signature brew for six months beforehand. Why, you huntin’ her?”
I shook my head. The bartender smiled devilishly, flicking a loose brown curl back over her shoulder.