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LiteratureWhen I'm BreathingStoic, strong, world-wary (weary) beyond years Teary but not torn, wrecked and wretched but not worn Young in face but old in taste, in breath and waste. This hole in chest, my bloodied breast, its’ gaping maw of murdered rest, Makes me neither cold nor heart-less. A deathly howl – the darkness comes rushing, crushing ‘til both deaf and blind. It finds me there, binds me, holds me down Surrounded by a sea of stones, all alone, Tear-soaked fears drop without a sound, streaming silently on hallowed ground. As rain falls from hazel skies And graying clouds make hazy eyes My head, my heart, my whole is heavy; Their ev’ry wAll

LiteratureWhen I'm BreathingStoic, strong, world-wary (weary) beyond years Teary but not torn, wrecked and wretched but not worn Young in face but old in taste, in breath and waste. This hole in chest, my bloodied breast, its’ gaping maw of murdered rest, Makes me neither cold nor heart-less. A deathly howl – the darkness comes rushing, crushing ‘til both deaf and blind. It finds me there, binds me, holds me down Surrounded by a sea of stones, all alone, Tear-soaked fears drop without a sound, streaming silently on hallowed ground. As rain falls from hazel skies And graying clouds make hazy eyes My head, my heart, my whole is heavy; Their ev’ry wFeatured

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LiteratureWhen I'm BreathingStoic, strong, world-wary (weary) beyond years Teary but not torn, wrecked and wretched but not worn Young in face but old in taste, in breath and waste. This hole in chest, my bloodied breast, its’ gaping maw of murdered rest, Makes me neither cold nor heart-less. A deathly howl – the darkness comes rushing, crushing ‘til both deaf and blind. It finds me there, binds me, holds me down Surrounded by a sea of stones, all alone, Tear-soaked fears drop without a sound, streaming silently on hallowed ground. As rain falls from hazel skies And graying clouds make hazy eyes My head, my heart, my whole is heavy; Their ev’ry wPoetry

LiteratureJourney Home: Chapter One*Chapter One* On the first day of the coldest month of the year, the mournful cry of the wolf was sounded. Its’ eerie call resounded through the snowy landscape. Camtin, the faithful mate of Jarvis, was having her first litter. Jarvis himself, who was usually so calm, was pacing quietly around the outside of the den, anxiously anticipating the blessed event. The boys, Jeran, Cavo, and Mayam laughed, having never seen the fearless warrior so scared. He growled in warning for his nerves were already stretched thin. VERY thin. They took the hint, even Mayam, and backed off. He returned his attention to the den’s entrance. Again theFor Stories

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When I'm Breathing by xxxdisneylvrxxx, literature