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Try to imagine life without timekeeping.

You probably can't. You know the month, the year, the day of the week.

Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored.

Birds are not late.
               A dog does not check his watch.
     Deer do not fret over passing birthdays.

Man alone measures time.
Man alone chimes the hour.
And because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures.

A fear of time running out.
Does he exist?
Is he really a she?
Who is he other then a "savior"?
How come many don't believe in him?
How do we know if he's right?
How can we trust his sons and daughters?
Does he really love each and every one of us?
Why does he let bad things happen?
How do WE know he's real
How do we know whether or not to believe in him
How do we know...
Is he really our god?
Could there be others?
Are we just blind and and are just sheep following not the Shepard but the wolf?
How do we know
I know I don't know
We need answers
I need answers

God
Blindness of religion.
The moon is full
The lone wolf howls
The night is a foggy one
The air has chill to it
The moonlight makes the forest even edgier
The child in me is scared
The house at the end couldn't be haunted, could it?
The chills run down my spine
The school boys dare is cursed upon me
The dare
The house couldn't be haunted. It couldn't
The steps I take seem endless
The house finally gets closer
The house is old, and abandon
The home of an 18th century witch
The shackled windows were covered in spiderweb
The walls were burned
The floors were unstable
The door, opened
The inside was eery, gloomy and creepy
The house was abandoned. I told myself
The house wasn't
The door had slammed shut behind me
The upstairs rooms emitted a mischievous cackle
The child that was I wanted to leave
The door would not open
The house's temperature suddenly got hotter
The house was coursed
The light
The house's interior was growing red and orange
The fire
The fire that killed the witch will **** me
The dared boy will burn
The curse
The dare
The bullies
Al.
Alliteration is
Alarmingly
Alluring
One reason why the English language is fun...
Every day I miss you
Every day I think of you
Every day I look up at you
Every day I wish you were still here with             us
Every day I talk to you
Every day I cry
Every day I questioned God's judgment
Every day I question the fairness of life
Every day I regret not saying anything that day
Every day I wish I could take back
Every day I wish I could've done something to make a difference
Every day I miss you
Every day I love you

RIP
8/18/94
12/13/13
We all have someone personal and close to our hearts, especially after they're gone.
It all starts with a roll
Your whole life is determined by the roll

Will I be a cleric, a mage?
Or a fighter fueled on rage...

Initiative is rolled
My move is after the Rolls

Will I make the strength check I need
Will my Saving Throw fail and leave me bleed

Everything is determined by the roll

Will the Dice God's answer my call?
Or will they see me struggle and watch me fall

When it comes to the dice, you gotta obey
The dice may give, but the dice may also take it away

It all ends with a roll
Your whole life/adventure was controlled by the role
The love that is D&D

— The End —