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The Narrative of Eros St. Agnes By: S.E. Horsley
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The Narrative of Eros St. Agnes By: S.E. Horsley
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but you climbed up the smooth silver
trunk and sat at the very top
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We sit outside the cafe
close to midnight as a tram rattles past
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a path led down to the beach
waves came in as usual
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She is determined to try it,
has heard it is all the rage,
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Tell me, did you hear that?
A whisper on the breeze.
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There is a chapel in the dale -
A pleasant place of colored glass.
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Awakened, once, I know not where,
I saw a field so desolate
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My life has been part
of a script so weird;
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Every night we liked to meet
On the corner of the street.
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Sit here by me, on this little bench
and share my memories of old.
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this is a narative essay i wrote for a college course...it's still a work in progress but let me knwo what you think?
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Tree limbs clattered in their naked tango,
Joined by snarling clamor and the tear of flesh.
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The sun rises in the west
The first glimmer of light
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I will rid myself of your influence
Tie my mind to higher planes
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I. I think maybe it's time to leave
on occasion I look outside and see
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Black jeans, close-fit all the way to the ankle
Converse lows, faded and worn with the use of every day
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Maximilian Blundertrougth,
Set out to catch the eyes of the young ladies.
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Staring into those crystiline eyes
The seconds feel like hours
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Alone within storm and sorrow cladeth
Thy faire eyes, sweet Magdalen!
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behind the door in garden wall
there waits a girl with silken scroll
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I am THE lurker, a nineteen year old predator
My fear would make her my victim
by Zixaphir
139 lines, 6 comments,
on Sep 3 2:05 PM 2007. In Pain, Personal, Angst, Narrative, Depressed, Freewrite, World Problems, Yay, Dark, Life
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A cold and miserable day,
that's all that it was.
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Soft face tainted by bruise and spit, / by brutal assault, what harsh alarm; / silk's auburn sheen by coffin's lid / was caught, distorted
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