Don't Go Breakin' My Heart [Venn/Aviana]
Nov 26, 2017 16:53:35 GMT -5
Post by Tom on Nov 26, 2017 16:53:35 GMT -5
- v e n n - m ö l l e r -
Wickedness in his veins as he approaches the place of quietness with flowers that bloom a beauty.
A rat in a field of beauty, but all he could see was the wickedness that he could commit. A lighter in his hands with a cigarette on his lips. A stolen pack of cigarettes in his pocket like a weight of the wickedness in him. There's no cage to keep him locked up from the wickedness in his heart. An open field with no one watching, he could set it aflame for fun. He could destroy the things that tear him up on the inside. A puff of smoke leaves his lips as he pulls out a paper from his pocket that had been some paper. Lowering his hand below the paper as the snap of a lighter in his hand lights the paper on fire. It catches and glows an orange, until it gets close to his hands.
He drops it to the ground where it burns a bit of grass and some flowers as it shrivels up into nothing. The wickedness deep down glowing in the flames that burn in front of him, he stomps at it which only lets the flames grow slightly more. Shrugging his shoulders, he throws in more things that he had brought. Useless things that had no meaning to him, but to others that he had stole from. Evidence that was to be burned and never seen of again. It wasn't like anyone was gonna want them back anyways. The flames grow with every second, until he stops and takes another puff of his cigarette.
Wickedness all alone with no heart to continue beating. Nerves never appear in his skin, he's calm like he always is. There's no fear of being caught. That's what he wants. He wants to be caught for the sins that he commits. Chances are they'll send him in the big cage where children play a game of blood and violence. Another puff of smoke as he leans on a tree watching the fire grow with items that he's stolen from all over District Nine.
The wicked live alone like a hawk circling for it's prey.
He needed no one else, but the prey.
A rat in a field of beauty, but all he could see was the wickedness that he could commit. A lighter in his hands with a cigarette on his lips. A stolen pack of cigarettes in his pocket like a weight of the wickedness in him. There's no cage to keep him locked up from the wickedness in his heart. An open field with no one watching, he could set it aflame for fun. He could destroy the things that tear him up on the inside. A puff of smoke leaves his lips as he pulls out a paper from his pocket that had been some paper. Lowering his hand below the paper as the snap of a lighter in his hand lights the paper on fire. It catches and glows an orange, until it gets close to his hands.
He drops it to the ground where it burns a bit of grass and some flowers as it shrivels up into nothing. The wickedness deep down glowing in the flames that burn in front of him, he stomps at it which only lets the flames grow slightly more. Shrugging his shoulders, he throws in more things that he had brought. Useless things that had no meaning to him, but to others that he had stole from. Evidence that was to be burned and never seen of again. It wasn't like anyone was gonna want them back anyways. The flames grow with every second, until he stops and takes another puff of his cigarette.
Wickedness all alone with no heart to continue beating. Nerves never appear in his skin, he's calm like he always is. There's no fear of being caught. That's what he wants. He wants to be caught for the sins that he commits. Chances are they'll send him in the big cage where children play a game of blood and violence. Another puff of smoke as he leans on a tree watching the fire grow with items that he's stolen from all over District Nine.
The wicked live alone like a hawk circling for it's prey.
He needed no one else, but the prey.
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Table by Meghan
Table by Meghan