Their boat swiftly drifted toward an island that Napa called Metru Nui. Kryztan's new mask felt smooth as he ran his fingers down it. Laker had made it before Napa found him and dragged him off like he did to the others. In fact Tellix was the only one who never resisted when Napa came to "recruit" them. She was eager to explore and desperately needed friends. "It’s a  good thing you brought that mask with you, Laker." Ponick commented. Kryztan silently agreed and nodded his thanks. 

Thanksgiving’s a wonderful time,

With game and food and rhyme.

To not thank the Lord for the year;

Must be a crime paid for, my dear.

Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? I've missed posting ideas for stories and poems and laughing (and crying and thinking deeply) as I read all your articles. I miss you guys. :)

I'm going to be here more often now posting weird little imaginations of mine and even parts of stories I'm really writing. I must warn you, I am a wacky, crazy person and I'm a little bit of a LOTR and Narnia nerd. But I hope you enjoy my short stories, my thoughts on things of God and my little musings of imagination (poems).

Slip away in darkness
while I hold off the dawn
hide among the tall rocks
and our flesh is stone for now.

Running, running, hiding, weeping
Dawn is coming, light is breaking
over the crest of the valley
We watch from the mountains, from rocks
and we know time is slipping.

No! Run away! Flee far with the night,
I will hold off the dawn
I will stay here and fight
I would rather die than see morning,
fall dead here than live tomorrow,
far away.

This was going to be a short story, but it got a little longer than I expected.  It shouldn't be more than 4 or 5 sections though.

_______________

Section 1

all the same in one sense
all are saints in progress

clad in heavy weight of sinners garb
too busy to stop and see their scars

some may hide and turn away
but we are running the same race

different ways
different pace
 
and yet He loves brokenhearted
run down, weary and afraid

and yet He raises all the lowly
cold, homeless, and unworthy

makes us shine through our tears
breathes His beauty into our fears

pulls us up so we can stand

   Annica resisted the urge to scratch her neck.
Actually, she had been resisting urges to scratch everywhere from the moment she had donned her evening gown. The dress was as terrible to wear as to look at. She could hardly breathe, no thanks to the corset, and she was trying not to think about her mother's probable reaction to the neckline. Annica looked at herself in the mirror and sighed for the fifteenth time that hour. Grey was not a good color on her. Sure, it matched her eyes, which currently looked like stormy grey clouds.

Okay guys, this is based on a true story, but probably most of it will be fiction.  Constructive criticism is definitely appreciated.  We'll see if I actually finish this one!
Oh and the title might be temporary, I'm not sure.  If anyone has better ideas I'd love to hear them.

~~~~~

This is just another night.
I am alone in my room, starring at the dark sky through the window. Moon is hiding somewhere I don't know, maybe too lazy to just pop up in the sky. I'm walking downstairs, house is actually empty. The only sound I can hear is my footsteps. I don't know where they are going. Or maybe I just don't care.

Suddenly night is calling me. I don't know how to accept yet to reject, but I know night is calling me. It forces me to do something. Escape. Run. Or simply to make this is not just another night.