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magnolia107

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The Corrupt Chronicles

My half of them

Created on 2004-01-17 17:16:34 (#1918930), last updated 2009-07-15

1,355 comments received, 2,222 comments posted

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914 Journal Entries, 149 Tags, 1 Memory, 0 Virtual Gifts, 6 Userpics

Basic Info

Name:	Ayla the Bandwagon
Location:	Minnesota, United States

Bio

You should never marvel at your own work. Marveling leads to pride and pride is the deadliest sin.
On grey and thick and heavy mornings like this, when fog is still rolling off the river in sheets sometimes we can be seen standing in the tree line shoulder to shoulder, in the tall and quiet wet grass. Our eyes are always half closed, full of sleep and just a little bit of fortitude. Our eyes are crystal clear and clean because they have touched Heaven. It will rain on and off forever but we never appear to be wet. It's not cold but you can see your breath in the wee hours of the morning when house lamps are only just starting to go on. And you swear that you can see us sometimes but when you look just a little bit closer we are gone. You know somewhere deep down inside of you that we go where ever you do, always standing quietly along the tree line shoulder to shoulder. Then the sky clears and turns ocean blue and the sun dries the grass and it begins to sway and we really are gone. And in the places that you swear we once were are nothing but groves of trees.