EliteWriters

It broke. Inside every man there is something more dear to him than life itself. A man may lose his head, his arm, his eyes, or even his life, but he is still recognizable as a man. But a man must never lose his soul, lest he become no better than the beasts he once hunted. A traitor to his beliefs, crushing that which makes up this inexplicable organ, is doomed to live the remainder of his days hollow, no longer living but merely undying. Men with broken souls are biological clockwork, rusting out their days until they break down into wet cogs and gears. So cherished, and yet so fragile. It happened while protecting the corrupt government

10 things I know to be true. About me, about you. The things I choose, The things you choose. We cannot win, or lose. Because we are ourselves. And if my 10 things are not your 10 things It’s not a bad thing, Cuz we don’t know everything. We have our own lives, own selves Own minds, own shelves which we place, Our being upon. So without further a due I present to you my 10 things that I Know to be true. One. People are stupid. Fighting meaningless wars on meaningless shores, Just because we don’t like each other. Two. Society is a prison. Confined to standards, hiding what we love Within. Fearing the thoughts of others H

“It’s simply politics,” the slim man says, his arm outstretched, the other one wrapped around a safety bar. At least, that’s what the man hears as he stumbles backwards, out the open bay doors, into the shimmering sky beneath him. As the plane rushes forwards impossibly fast, the man is made aware of his dire situation, and all that he is leaving behind. A wife. A son. A mother and a father. Everybody that he loves and everybody that loved him, at some point or another. Would they feel the impact? As the life sapped from his body, would they feel it, too? Would they know, in their gut, that something was wrong? Would t

Take my hand And pull me close. Hold me tight and, Never let me go. Your skin smells like sweet June rain And your arms are all around me. You engraved your kisses on my neck So I can never leave. I like to feel your heartbeat Because I belong to the echo of your soul. If you wished for more,I couldn't help you, Cause you've already got it all. And I know it's stupid Spilling these words on your lips But you need to know that You can feel the light of my love under your fingertips. There is one more thing I think even the brightest star knows My head is buried in your neck. "I promise,I am yours".

26 letters. That's all language is. every poem, every novel, every Shakespearean play. 26 letters So how can one, make these words fun? Or scary? Or sad? How can one, manipulate language. Kill the rules make us sound like fools. Even now, you think, 'This guy's an idiot'. He's trying to rhyme 'think' with 'idiot'. And he has a colossally bad habit of putting too many syllables in one line. But that's okay. You know why? Because in the end, literature isn't literature. Just a different combination of, 26 letters.

Pressure. The weight bears down upon me, like Atlas holding the sky. Pressure. There is so much to do, but I'm only one guy! Pressure. From my parents, teachers, and friends Pressure. From everyone, I fear it never ends. Pressure. Things to do, the world to scour. Pressure. As I race along, at a hundred miles per hour Pressure. The world on my back. Pressure. I should hit the sack. Pressure. Just need some rest. Pressure. I'll do my best. But really, who can sleep? With all this. Pressure.

Life. We live, we love, we laugh, we cry. And all the while, it passes us by. Robots living, in a plastic bubble. we fear the void and any sort of trouble. We fear to fail, but we fail at life. See, to live is not all good, most of it's a strife. But that's the beauty of it, see? What it takes to be you, and me. Individuals not some Illuminati clone branded by society, with nothing of our own Taste fear, feel regret. Fill your life with things, you shall never forget. For this is the time, it's but a strife. This great lie we 'live', this lie we call, Life.

The spiders, surround me. The biters, around me. Deadly venom, piercing fangs. From the ceiling, my body hangs. Limp, lifeless. Nearly dead. My feet  turn numb, blood goes to my head. The venom, consumes me, destroys me, renews me. Reborn, not fully me. Not human, not spider but somewhere in between. A king, I am. No, their Queen. They need me, love me, no longer are they mean. Forever, and ever, and ever, and ever. Paitent and silent, I  wait. For one like I was; for my next prey.

Mankind, flowing in and out. Daily routines, followed without a doubt ideas for the future, No thoughts of the past. Their plans they always nurture, but they always come to pass. Hollow men, we are Across the world, near and far. We say we care, we say we'll fight But too expensive is the fare, and what's out of mind is out of sight. Our history is great, However built upon hate. Which feeds our ego and fuels our greed. Oh just where can we go, I have a plan, so here heed. Break the mold, of those that are old. Live with compassion, Live through the strife and don't ask for permission, To live your own life. We're stu

Arc 1- Main antagonist- Earthquake. -Protagonists = Thunder and Lightning -Wake up in the beginning, no idea of how they got there or who they are, they just have a strong sense of haste - T+L are brothers and stand up for one another, however are prone to bickering, as most brothers are Chapter 1, Book 1 Wake up on the top of a mountain with a ferocious thunderstorm swirling above them. Rain pelts down, however, visible to the west, is a violent blizzard, and to the east, a massive heat wave is occurring. Before they have a chance to figure out what is happening, a massive earthquake hits. T- What's going on here? Who the hell are you