It’s late at night,
My thinking’s not right,
And I should lay down to rest.

My eyelids are drooping,
My backbone is stooping,
My hips are hula-hooping,
And I should lay down to rest.

I know it’s all for the best,
That I should lay down to rest;

But my mind can’t get over the test,
That this is all just a stupid jest.

Lie down upon my nest,
Which overlooks the family crest,
That’s where I’ll be taking my
Beloved, Cherished, Well-deserved
Rest.

A young girl from an Asian village is skipping along a dirt road on her way to draw water from a nearby stream-bank, her bare feet kicking up the dust. She waves to some of the women washing clothing by the bank, and cheerfully calls out to the children playing in the shallows. After prodding a cow out of the way with a stick, she quickly fills her jug with water. It all seems perfectly safe, but in reality, the villagers’ lives are in danger because of something they cannot even see.

*A/N* I've been working on this for a bit and am actually fairly proud :). Please give me feedback!!! You people are too nice on here <3
P.S. Check it out! It's a whole four pages long. So much pride.

Years later…
My heartbeat quickened.
I said in somewhat recognition, “That lamppost, my majesties, does it not look familiar?”
As soon as I said that, it seemed as if something had clicked in my mind, and memories started to float back-- memories of the world back in Spare Oom…memories that had been once long ago forgotten. That lamppost…it can’t be…?
“Stop!” I cried out deafeningly, pulling the reins of my horse.
All heads turned to look at me.

The next morning dawned fair and clear.
At the crack of dawn, I awoke. Judging from the absolute silence, I knew that no one else except for a few creatures (who were strolling in the castle grounds) and I were awake.
I glanced over at Lucy and Susan who were sleeping peacefully in their beds a few feet away.
Deciding to take a walk to the balcony, I slipped into a silky gown with the shade of pink daisies.
The halls were hauntingly quiet.
I had no idea where I was going so I found myself to be traipsing around.

So Jesus came out, a crown of thorns on His head
Robed in purple by those who wished Him dead.
And they slapped Him in the face,
The One who created them, they sought to abase.

And Pilate said to them, “Behold the man!
Shall I crucify your King as you plan?”
“We have no king but Caesar,” the crowd replies.
“His blood be on our children, even when he dies!”

They strike Him with the reed He made,
Mocking the Law they’d not obeyed.
Still like the Lamb to the altar,
He is silent; He will not falter.

68-Revolve

Chapter one

1. And in the reign of Hamad, king of Israel, was Naman son of Benjamin. And he took unto wife, Esther the daughter of Luke.

2. And Esther bore unto Naman a son and a daughter, and they called them Hansel and Gretel.

3. And Esther gave up the ghost in the evening, and Naman lifted up his voice and wept.

4. And he took unto wife, Naomi, daughter of Isaac. And she was a woman of great beauty, yet she did great evil.

5. And she was barren, and hated the children. And did not show unto them any kindness.

I am afraid of being afraid.
And I know it sounds silly--
sometimes I dream I bring thirsty bees water
and they circle my head like a crown. Forget honey.
It's the bees themselves that really matter;
summer evenings, watching them drop fat from flowers
as if they're made of honey themselves.

But I fear I'd be afraid.

Real beekeepers don't wear gloves.
And if I was stung-- What then?
In truth, I fear I'd drop the frame:
a mess of broken comb and propolis and humid tears.