Alec-E-Silus

Like the choir, Sought for angelic qualities. It has only been, A child who has true – chastity. No more pure could one get, Than from a child just born. Nothing I have seen, Has been more seemliness – than the absolute greed of a child young. It is a treasure, To withhold such purity. Such a treasure, To stand as a child. And yearning – there is, To become that chasteness – that of a child.

It is a trust, Which a child puts into his toys. It is that reliance. When a young girl holds her doll – to cry. It is our faith, In which we all preserve – within ourselves. It is the connection, Between all life on Earth – and the Sun. It is in our nature, To depend.

It's a day of warm air, It's a day of warm air. And a day for the swans, For them to swim. There's a light for them, To follow. It's the end of the day, And time for them to rest. Then for us it's to play, To sit in the tree. We stare out on the horizon, Where swans still astray. We count all our rocks, Which we made into Fae. We pass them to children, So they will live happily – Just as we do today. It's a day of warm air. It's a day of warm air. And a day for the Fae, For them to be cared. There's a boy alone, A dog too. A girl pops a Fae onto his knee, The Fae kisses her cheek. So they've been all joy

A choir- one with the sweetest harmony, Gives me the thought- of innocence, Seen in the children I pass each day. A quality I lost when I grew confident, Innocence is only seen pure, In those who do not see the worth in their path. It answered my question- this quality, About some complication when grown. I hope one day, I may be free. Such like those children I see, Who frolic and smile, Wherever they feel to. Because the innocence in their hearts, Decides.

Inevitable, Are the words of pain in all ways. But what heals one so well, To again be given a chance at life, Are the words of a greater one, In whom we all believe in. When things are lost, And the words of pain are spoken, A greater voice must seize those words, And heal your wounds. We believe in a greater one, We beg to a greater one, To give us life, To give us more of what we desire, With the words that cannot be described, When pain has overtaken. Words give life, Because we all believe, In a greater one. One who will speak to us the words, To save us from ourselves.

It is something I ask for, All through my life. It is one thing, I do not have, One thing, I envy from others. I know without doubt, That I will get my wish. It will be granted because, I work. I work hard. I work for my future, For the small things I want. My family and kids, My pride and smile. A simple life, Is simple, Because small things are, Loved. Cherished. Never lost.

        "She injected me with something... I think... It's the Veronica virus..." The boy's words moved from his lips in a slow, rasped tone. "She wants to test me, see if I'll obey her orders. Claire, she wants me to kill you." The girl, Claire, stepped forward a pace and a looked of concern crossed her face. "Steve..." She started, not sensing the oncoming danger. It was then that the truth hit her like the front of a semi truck. Steve was infected. He made a choking noise in the back of his throat, and his body began to convulse. He struggled like this for a good thirty seconds. "I won't..." He was breathing heavily now, his hands ripp

The soft melody played slowly and sweetly, spinning the story and telling a cruel tale. Small white flecks fell noiselessly in the little crystal world, as a boy and a girl twirled in the white, without expression. The only person who observed this small universe was a boy of about twenty seven, with blue eyes that looked like they might have been bright at one time, but had faded since. His blonde hair was gelled back on his head, and his face held a look of innocence as he stared into the snow globe. This was his way of escape, to pretend and hide it all away, so that he was not reminded of the bitter truth, however deep it may lie. "I fe