It was the eve of a black obsidian night full purple moon and stars shone bright the howl of one lone wolf filled frigid air damp cold mist needed down outerwear.
The screaming banchee's breath vapor was noxious green befitting the caper of scaring all children by his loud noise of trick or treating little girls and boys.
A massive link ink wrought iron fence surrounds eerie mansion in suspense Frankinstein pushes thru spider webs while a monster exercises quadriceps.
A ghost wanders in Cemetery's grave and a pumpkin avoided an autoclave the doors began to creak very loudly a Raven and Owl sang quite proudly
Slick sleek ebony crows sit atop a roof while another swoops, soars like a goof do listen, you can hear their shrill echo tombstone-songs by mummy's gecko
Mourning dove, set on black wires above The cool, garden lawn, looks down on cat, Who is burning blithe birds in greenest eyes, He tastes them as he chirps in trouncing trance Fixating upon fixing them, his pious patience Is job like, steadfast, gracious as lifted wings. Early next day, all that is left of fallen mourning Dove, are a bed of feathers strewn on the lawn.
A soul is being able to exist in earth. Being able to feel and consider yourself a beautiful creature that was put here for a reason. A soul is something that has all of you in once place and it already knows everything you like and the emotions you carry and the moves you make. It's the brain for our whole body and why you do the things you do. It's a map that you don't know, but it knows.
Your soul is what makes a human a human, a cat a cat, a fish a fish.
it's day like this (with those grey weather skies) that I wish I was a cat so whenever I'm cold, or you feel the gloom, I know that I could walk up to you and snuggle on your lap or you can hold me in your arms and I will sleep soundly, knowing that this is home.
Tangled in yarn, he purred. Like a kilowatt humming through the extension cord. When he wasn't a blue cat, he was gray. When he wasn't being played with, he was stray. But his attitude made all the difference. A rule of thumb for his mere existence. "I think it's almost golden, no I know it's almost golden." Color blind it was his silver lining.
when i was a child i had a siamese cat we found him, alone, abandoned outside of our home we took him with us when we left
he never liked to be inside too much but he loved me with all of his soul refusing to leave me be and resting on my lap until my legs were numb
he was aggressive and mean to his own kind never letting other cats wander upon his territory, but he expressed a tolerance for the young kittens next door
one day he began searching the house climbing into the bathtubs, across furniture on the counters, meowing incessantly until he decided to go outside
we opened the door for him and he happily trotted away, and in the morning we discovered he found what he was searching for he was searching for a place to die.
