Since I was eleven years old, my dream has been to write. Whether it was screenplays, novels, or articles, I wanted to write something that would change the world for the better. Something
I drove by the house where I used to live and looked at the red door my mother painted, bleeding through the blistered, peeling white the new people used. I stopped the car
Years ago, when Earth was young, Warm was the air and bright the sun, White Unicorns stood as guardians Of the world’s bright thoughts and dreams. With them lived a man named
The earth trembled. The sky blackened. “Defeat,” demons whispered. He— The Son of God, The Light of Man— Gone out. Satan’s laughter Echoes under Jerusalem’s streets. God’s wrath rumbles in
Dedicated to Deandre Gladden We lost him on a southern spring day. The birdsong ringing melodies in our ears, sunjoy rays accompanied by new air, flowers opened and shouted, “I’m here!” But
Silly moon. Did you think that you could fool Those of us that know the sun? Your path across its countenance Lasts only for a moment. Silly moon. Your feeble efforts can’t
The prince awoke to cannon fire. He sat up and stared at the curtains over the windows. More cannons went off. Voices shouted. Something exploded. The prince kicked the blankets away and ran
What hell can you wreck upon lone me? My King and Queen have retreated, And I am my own worst enemy. Fiery stakes consume the clergy Who told me forgiveness was dead. What