Seth Cross Writing

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Actually 20 lines is fine. I think the limit for the contest is only like 30 lines.
This one's more of a dump, so I don't lose it:

Be the one that I crave,
Gazed upon from afar,
Day by day

The face painted on my dreams,
Be the one that I could see

Come and take it all away,
The only thing that I want,

God take it away,
Burn it all away,
Be the one I crave,
The one I could see,
Through the ashes,
Spoken through walls

Can you taste it on your lips?
Feel it on your skin,

The passion,
The poisoned mind,

...The lust
When did you become poetic?
I always have. I just never posted any. I never really talk about myself much, it always seem to be bragging.

I just recently started getting more into it. Decided I'd go ahead and post one or two.

I've got a folder in My Documents about 50 megabytes big all filled with poems.
Get a name for or I have both. They're both free. Allpoetry is a bit better because people can comment and stuff, so I advise that one more.
Wow some of you guys are very into reading/writing i always wanted to write somthing, just never have the time (ignore the fact that i WC3 map for 12 hours or more non-stop :p ) got a few quistions, i've read a decent number of books, any one here read the following at some point in time?; Great Expeectations, The Transall Saga best book ever in existence, (i read it 4 times every year(its a novel) and it never gets old)), Downfall trilogy, Legened of Huma, legacy of blood? Btw i didnt know some many of you guys here were all peotic, thats something that just doesnt come to every one, epsecialy me :D , anyway alexander good luck on your book type thing, i have but one thign to say, if your in it for fun, gear it towards adults, if your in for the $$$ target kids. as for the rest of you you have quite exeptional reading and writing skills, thiers more brilliant ideas and poems here, then i've ever seen. Transall Saga pwnz....
Written for a friend who has been having a lot of personal problems lately because her friends are all committing suicide around her -.-

New Kind of Angel
Dedicated to Jackie, to let her know she's got all sorts of Angels

A light that's been shattered
A life tumbling it's way down.
Friends whose only goal
Is to place their own bodies beneath the ground

Angels from above
A family no longer here
A mind like cold stone
Sick of all the tears

Looks like the Demons aren't just mine
Everyone has some of their own
They're pop up everywhere
Even in the safest home

People make mistakes
Even when they try to do what's right
Even if what they do
Is give up the fight

I know their actions hurt
Believe it when I say no one knows better then me
Because I've got Demons too
And I just wanted you to see

Your angels may move on
But open your eyes and look around
You've still got family here
Trying to pick you up when you fall down

No matter what you say
No matter what you do
You've got family
Looking out for you

This family are the one's who'll save you
When your life is caught and strangled
While you've got some in the sky
We're just a new kind of angel​
Double post, I know, oh well. A short selection from one of my many book ideas. This one is new, called Devilish Days. It follows the path of a man who begins to see evil spirits, and is recruited by none other than the Grim Reaper to bring them back to the underworld. This book portrays my theory on religion (all of them) showing that all our religions are both the same, without existing. It shows the Grim Reaper in a "good guy" role, as well.

And now...

Here it is:

[BTW: Ryoko, damn you, your board, and it's lack of the use of the Tab button!]

The skeletal figure watched Nicholas as he tried to digest everything he had just been told. God, the Goddess, Ghandi, they were all no more then the ravings of a lunatic, the Grim Reaper was really humanity's best friend, and Hell was really just a holding vault of evil souls that had recently been cracked open and was now leaking evil spirits, or "devils" into the "real world".

I'm in the freaking Twilight Zone, Nicholas thought to himself. He continued to think through a growing migraine when a sudden move on his left made him jump. Spinning around, he saw the cause of his moment of fright was nothing more then a white cat. While Nicholas allowed himself a slight sigh of relief, the Reaper's reaction was much more then he expected.

"Another one of you little bastards, huh? Get out of here, wretch! Go on, get lost! Find yourself a nice dumpster to eat from, you overgrown vermin!" the Reaper hissed. Nicholas raised an eyebrow in confusion and wonder. "White cats are horrible creatures, Nicky, m'boy. But you'll learn that all soon enough."

"Wait. I thought black cats were bad luck, not white ones?" Nicholas asked.

"They are. White cats are good luck, which is bad, because the black cats are usually helping the world's overpopulation issue a bit. Besides, you think everyone a black cat crosses is a good guy? Hardly, Nicky. If ever."

Nicholas just stared for a moment before speaking.

"Let me get this straight. You just informed me that evil spirits break out of what we poor mortals typically call Hell on a daily basis, and you like the cats that give bad luck? I thought you said you were a good guy, in reality?"

The lights that served as the Grim Reaper's eyes seemed to roll in their sockets.

"Yes, I am a good guy. But when you walk around the world bringing evil souls down to their eternal holding cell, you tend to become very cynical."

Nicholas stared again. The Reaper merely avoided his gaze at first, but the silence was too annoying after only a few minutes.

"What? I'm not allowed to be a jerk and get a few laughs from bad luck? I admit it, I'm a jerk! I don't like people, and I laugh at your expense!" he shouted, raising his arms and his scythe to emphasis his point.

Nicholas' eyebrow raised again.

"You love your job, don't you?"

Despite the somewhat negative vibe between them, the Reaper's expression twisted into what Nicholas could only assume was a smile. In reality, the look made him want to wet his pants, but he decided that a skull without any skin can't look all that friendly to begin with.

"Only every second of it, m'boy. Only every second," Death admitted, his ghoulish smile emphasized even more by the now redish tint in his eye sockets.
An edited version of the earlier poem. You can figure out what it's talking about, the context is pretty obvious.

So I lay down for the last time,
Lay my head to rest,
Thinking not of the ones I'm leaving,
As my heart starts beating

Failing to miss another day
So the wait is over,
A sea as deep as drowning,
Revealing the tragedies

Just to rid the pain inside
So the wait is over,
Let it go tonight
The end of a lifetime
Echoing in my fall from grace

But I fear what lies ahead
As my heart starts beating

The chance of life,
The laughter...
The laughter of death...
This is a peice of a story I'm going to eventually write, called Past Conflicts...

The young man sat on his bed, the gun sitting not three inches from him. He stared at it and ran the thoughts through his mind again. He had to be sure this is what he wanted to do before he did it. There would be no turning back.

Life had taken everything from him. The love of his life was no longer his to hold. The lives of his friends, the only family he had ever known, were laying in shred around him. He had tried to prevent it, even if he could only delay the disaster for a time. His attempts had been met with failure. There was nothing left to take...

Except life itself.

Fighting back tears and painful memories, he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the gun. He knew what was loaded inside. A single bullet. For 3 weeks, he had come in, spun the reel, put the barrel to his temple and then put the gun down. No pulled triggers. No clicks, no bangs. Tonight, even if it did click, there would be a bang. No more chance.

The gun could hold six bullets, but he had one. Even if the first five were empty clicks, he would hear a bang. It would be, quite litterally, the last thing he ever heard.

Smiling bitterly, he spun the reel on the gun. He stared at it, the last thing he would see, before closing his eyes, raising the gun up to his head, barrel pressed firmly to his temple. His past suddenly leapt into his mind, making him see things he didn't want to see. Friends disappearing. Friends hurt, friends losing their own friends. He pulled the trigger.


Damn it, he thought bitterly. Couldn't have been easy, could it? He pressed the gun back to his head. Again, the images leapt up, but this time it was worse. These memories weren't bad. They were the best of his life. Beautiful brown eyes, soft lips, smooth skin. A love he no longer knew. He pulled the trigger.


Shit! he screamed in his mind. He just wanted an end. An end to the pain, an end to the depression, an end to his life, the crater of nothing it had become. He pushed the gun back to his head, this time pressing it hard against his temple. More memories, these times of pain. Falling fists, loud words, horrible feelings. He pulled the trigger.


The man burst into tears. Life was mocking him. It was kicking him while he was down. Here he was, without a prayer for even himself, without a desire to go on, and life couldn't even give him death. His only shining light was that life couldn't beat math. Only three more clicks were left. He knew full well what would happen with that gun to his head, so he quickly rose the gun, tightened his closed eyes, and pulled the trigger before the images could assault him.


Damn you, God, he silently whispered. He finally got it. Life, God, whoever was in charge of things around here, was going to make him endure every last possible second. Fine with him. Only two more to go. Quickly, he pick the gun back up and pressed it to his head to pull the trigger.


Fuck! he shouted, throwing the gun away from him, and across the room. It skittered and banged into the far wall. His head dropped to his hands, tears slowly falling from his eyes. Everything had been so hard. Now this.

"You know," he whispered, tired of thinking to himself. "You've made my life shit, man. No matter how bad I tried, you just brushed it off like it was nothing. You took her, them, everything. Why don't you just take what's left? Reap what you've sown, you hypocritical son of a bitch!" He shouted the last of the words out, bringing his head up to stare at the gun. "Fine. Don't do it. Let me."

He got to his feet, and walked to the gun, bending to pick it up. Checking the reel, he saw it hadn't moved when he'd thrown it. Now, there was only one more space in the reel left. This was his bullet. This was his way out.

The memories didn't even wait for him to move his hand. He was assault with her face. A beautiful face with big brown eyes that saw right through him. A wonderful smile that seemed to lighten his heart all by itself. The tears started to flow out of his eyes as his free hand reached out, even though he knew she wasn't there.

She never would be.

The thought slammed into him, and his sadness turned again to pain. He narrowed his eyes, in rage and hatred of what had been done to him. He looked at the gun, still the last thing he'd ever see.

"Good bye, world. I'll see you in Hell, you sadistic bastards."

He put the barrel to his head, but before he pulled the trigger, he opened his eyes without meaning to. The world around him dissolved, and it was like going back in time. He was surrounded by trees, a small pond in front of him. The gun was gone from his hand, but his arms were filled. She was there, looking at him. They were sitting on the ground, her in his arms, smiling up at him. He knew it wasn't real. It couldn't be. She wasn't there anymore. But she felt real against him, she even smelled real. As he stared in astonishment, she spoke, and she even sounded real.

"I love you, you know," she whispered up at him. But it wasn't true. Not anymore. That sole thought saved him. He took his arms away from her, bringing his empty hand back up to his head. The forest and pond began to dissolve. The gun was back in his hand. The last thing left was her. She dissolved slowly, still smiling, unaffected by his movements. How could she be? It was a memory, playing out like it had once upon a time. When he had been happy. When she had been his.

"I love you, too," he whispered, knowing she wouldn't hear the real him. He pulled the trigger, welcoming the bang and darkness that would follow.


Corruption's thread was created after the crash, so it went kapoot! Which, obviously, blows, but it's back, baby, and better than ever! (Longer, too!)

Anyway, here's the 6 chapters you guys had available for DL. During's ness of being dead, I got up to chapter 9. However, I don't wanna let ya'll read up that fast, so I'm only giving you up to 7 for now :p

For those of you who haven't read Corruption, it's a book that I'm writing about a Vampire assassin named Alexander Stinda, and a human girl named Elizabeth Jensen. Elizabeth stumbles onto a small town called New Blood, which is inhabited by Vampires, Witches, and Lycans. Naturally, most people would find this town filled with mythical creatures to be very impossible. However, Elizabeth follows the writing of an author by the name of Arthur Cain who just so happens to write about New Blood in his books. Things get fuzzy when the leader of New Blood, a Witch by the name of Zaris hires Alexander to erase Elizabeth from existance. You get to look back through Alexander's history, and meet a lot of really sick, twisted characters in the book, so please, by all means, read up and tell me whatcha think.

Also, feel free to ask any questions about story line, characters, etc. etc.

Any and all spoilers must be requested via PM :p Don't ruin it for other people who hate spoilers ;)
Hold on I'll start reading once I pour some water on my dictonary... its catching my desk on fire.

The Stalkers rallied a party and sent it after him. They were either to bring him home to try to help him, or help the world be ending his existence.

by ending?

Ill finsh in the morning its 12 o'clock...
Just so everyone knows, I've pretty much mapped out the entire Blood War series. Corruption was the original idea, but in order to pull up the history of the Vampires and such, I created a back story for it, and thus, I've created about 4-5 books BEFORE Corruption, and another few afterward.

The series is now 10 books long. Corruption's in the middle, somewhere.

I'll post all the titles and the summaries later. Right now, someone's reading them, so don't got 'em on hand :(

(@ UV ~ Thanks for the error report, and I'll check your post later for an update :))
I didn't see any other mistakes, god that ending cracks me up though.

"'Pray'", one three thirty seven owned right there.
Yeah, rofl... Everyone loves that part. It's just so "OH, shit! Owned!" ish :D

The funny thing is, Cyrik wouldn't pray for rain if his ... Fur? was on fire.
Yeah, now Silver can brag about how he's read 8 and 9 ;)
Alexander said:
Yeah, now Silver can brag about how he's read 8 and 9 ;)

Rofl, I wasn't going to mention it, but I guess now I can. They're good, people. :D
And soon Chapter 10 might begin... It's just a lot of running around for me. Yesterday, I had to drive me and my girl Sarah up to South Amboy (30 minute drive, not bad except for the fact that I didn't know where the fuck I was goin') because her witch of a mother backed out of giving us a fucking ride... Thursday's typically my day off from work, but me and Sarah are both going in cause we took off yesterday for Sarah's Arts High Festival. Last night, I was up til 3 making some stupid as all hell powerpoint presentation to pass my intermediate computers class... GOD, I fucking hate PowerPoint... STILL have make-up work for Accounting 1... And yeah. It's just fucking crazy right now.

I have a short story going, too... Called "Baby Fangs"

A young child, Jackson King finds that his middle school is being infested with Vampires bent on resurrecting Dracula, who is currently "resting" in a human being. That human being just so happens to be Jackson's history teacher. So now, a 10 year old must save the world in a week, against a small horde of Vampires. No biggie, right?

Anyone interested in chapter 1? I got a lot of negative comments on it, cause I tried a different writing style. I wanted it to look like a little kid wrote it, since the kid was the narrorator in the story... But no one seems to really enjoy it, ROFL!

But if you're curious, I'll stick it up for reading material.
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