The Majestic Feline

Cleopatra stretched and yawned. Her dainty teeth and claws shown pearl white. Fuzzy fur and soft wispy whiskers were carefully placed askew by the gentle breeze as it kissed her cheeks. The cat’s back arched as she stood on her tip toes. The patchwork quilt she wore was unique, sewn with burnt orange, earth brown, midnight black and snowy white. She sat back on strong haunches, cleverly disguised by her petite form. Rippling muscles were hidden under the soft blanket. The mischievous tail, with a mind of its own, flicked back and forth constantly with a deceptively nonchalant grace. Obsidian orbs set in glowing emerald spheres could deceive even the most fearful of mice. Elegant ears rose like hillocks from the noble brow. A pretty nose complimented the shape of the face it was set in and the pink coloring perfectly matched the tongue, which now scoured every inch of her flawless frame. After the bath she sauntered over to the porch, claiming her royal position by the glass door as she waited for her daily treat.

Me Emo?

No I'm not going Emo although my family may think so. I wrote An Average Teen, because at my school in an assembly we were talking about how people lable other people, for instance Emos. I started thinking why are they the way that they are? I decided to put myself in their shoes. It wasn't that difficult because we all have the same problems, it's how we deal with them that makes us different. I don't think that we should make fun of them, i think we should empathize with them and encourage them. We put others down because they are different from us and handle heartache in an odd way. I think it's like what Wannabe was saying about homosexuals. No being Emo is not a sin, but we have the same things to go through as they do for the most part. I'm not getting much feedback on this blog...what do you guys think?

Book Update

I just read this book called The Seer And The Sword, 340 pages all in one day. I loved it. It's about this princess named Torina and a captured Prince Named Landon (I think). It was great, anyone who is into High Fantasy should check it out. An easy read that's exciting and fun. I'm also currently reading The Sword of Shannara, another High Fantasy, but i find it rather dull. Many people i have talked to loved this book but it has been extremely boring. I'm about half way through The DaVinci Code, it is very well written and a good mind stretcher. My great uncle just loaned me The Autobiograghy of Benjamin Franklin. I haven't gotten a chance to read it yet but I will definately give you a review of it when I have. That's all I've got for now but if you have any questions about any of these books or others I will do my best to help you out. Also if you want to recomend any books feel free to. Thanks a lot.

The Mage

An Average Teen

Has there ever been a time when I’ve let you down? Where could I have gone wrong? Are you ashamed of the way that I turned out? I feel lost. Like I’m swimming in an aquatic globe of nonexistence. Oblivion means a state of being or utterly forgotten. This is how I feel. My stupor controls my every move, and I’m floundering for a foot hold on the wall of audacity. My strength is limited; I need a greater power to pull me to my feet. “God help me!” I scream into the night. What do you want from me? Have you given up on me? I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, there are others. They are all searching for the same object, acceptance. Little girls need to hear you are beautiful and precious, dream big. Little boys need to hear you are strong and able, you are good enough. If you don’t hear when you are young, then you will never grow up. Broken hearts and shattered dreams are all we have to show for our years in adolescence. We cry out for somebody anybody, but they just put us down and tell us we are scum. Listen to me now. I will be heard even if the others won’t. I demand your attention, give it to me! Don’t you see I’ve changed? Don’t you wonder why? It’s because you wouldn’t tell me what I needed to hear, so I went looking for it somewhere else. I left you behind long ago. I escaped, escaped into my own creation. I told myself those things you refused me, and others who didn’t care about me took advantage of my vulnerability. Don’t you see? You did this to me. You forced me to flee. I and you both ruined me. My stricken core, my beaten body, they are barely breathing. My laboring lungs slowly fill with life giving air. Any second now it could all be gone, it could all be over. It would be so easy to give up on you like you have so readily done for me. Just one last breath and then it can end. Death, such a sweet sounding word. But no isn’t this what you wanted? I will fight! I will not give up. I must survive, because no matter what you think I have a purpose. There is one who will listen. There is one who will care. That one will rescue me. That one will save my yearning soul. Only He knows who I truly am. Only He can satisfy my desire to be known, loved, accepted. I forgive you. You may have beaten me, or wounded my heart, or perhaps your only crime was that of unintentional disregard. It no longer matters for He has come and shown me the ultimate sacrifice. He has wiped every tear from my eye and made my lungs strong again, that I might live and love the way he lives and loves. I will forgive you but I will never forget you, for the trap of reoccurrence is far too easily found.

The Unforgotten

Based on the song Mercy Said No, by Greg Long



A little girl, lost and alone. Clothed only in rags, she apprehensively slinks through the foreboding alleys. As quiet as a mouse, she scurries from shadow to shadow. Fear reaches out and grips her in his icy claws, feeding her lies of abandonment and tearing hope from her grasp. She desperately struggles, but all hope of something more seems to slip through her frozen fingers. Her torment increases as she is once more attacked with the lies of her despiser.
“You’re not good enough. Nobody loves you. You are ugly. You are forgotten and alone.” Her small body quakes with the sobs of a broken heart. The girl cannot hold on much longer, her head swims and her grief screams around her. It seems that she will be devoured by the lions nearby who lick their lips in anticipation. Saliva drips revoltingly from their fangs.
Suddenly Mercy roars above the grief, “No! I’m not gonna let you go. I’m not gonna let you slip away. You don’t have to be afraid.” Mercy says “No!” Fear turns and shrieks. He knows that the chosen ones are forbidden to him, but this? A poor peasant girl?
“She is mine!” he rasps. “She is nothing to you.”
Mercy says, “No, she is everything to me. She is mine. Flee Fear and be gone from her.” Fear leaves howling and screeching, venting his rage at being deprived of his prey. Mercy slowly bends down and picks up the unnerved child. Cradling her in his arms he softly whispers in her ear, “It’s okay, I’m here now.” all wrath has vanished from his voice. He brushes away her tears, “I am so proud of you.” he says. Her big blue eyes stare longingly into his and a smile begins to turn up the corners of her delicate mouth as a peaceful calm settles over her like a warm blanket. “I love you my beautiful princess.” he coos as she serenely slips off into a comfortably deep slumber.