A/N. Im definitely having mixed feelings about how this came out.

Initially all I wanted is to try

my hand at writing in a different style but Im not really happy about the finished project so any
constructive criticism is welcomed and shall be rewarded with internet cookies :D.



Tonight, the stars

And the world crashes down and breaks in millions of pieces. And light explodes in
thousands of hues. Whats life really worth when everything is blown away on wings of wind?
The sand is falling slowly in the hourglass and through it onto the desert; a story will
come to its conclusion.
Somebody steps into the mirror. It shatters the gateway is closed. The wait begins to
the new resolution to a new turning (of the Wheel of Time?), when portals appear for those
who look for them.
A rose, a ribbon (what color is it? My eyes have turned blind for I cannot tell) ashes from
tomorrow ashtray and an unlit cigarette. They are placed near the beautiful corpse of a young
woman. May that be Lenore, or is it rather Annabel Lee?
But angels sing in a different language. The answer is imperceptible, incomprehensible.
She opens her eyes.
A mighty pen or a plume of a writer can turn the dead to a new motion. Vampire.
Creature of myth. Cometh forth.
.
.
.
Blood is dripping from many wounds. I have crashed into the corners of reality. My body
is bruised by the impact and old wounds start to ache. My dreams shatter. Like a mirror or a
glass touched by the shriek of despair.
They shatter in millions or so they seem, but truth be told its a lie (many things are)
reflective, sharp pieces.
I try to pick them, to glue them back together. I am cut. I bleed. Theres nothing more
natural than that.
When people are shot they bleed, said Sumire and she was right.
Tonight it rains stars. Stars are like dreams. Stars are dreams. Thousands of millions,
bright and distant. Unreachable. Untouchable.
Sometimes they fall on Earth. Sometimes we fall out of the Earth. We touch a star.
Dreams then come true.
.
.
.
Blood flows. In our veins, on our hands.
Im drenched in it.
Everybody has blood on their hands. Yesterday we killed a dream. Today one came
through. We drink the blood of stars, yet the body is still battered and bruised. And it aches. So
much. Never enough
We are thirsty. Let the ambrosia be mixed with the blood of other peoples dreams.
Blood gives life. We are vampires. All kinds of them. New or old. Social (status). Money.
Modern day. Technology. Ancient.
.
.
.
The black cat walks across the street. Time stops. A moment. An instant.
Break.
Go to next.

Love. Neverending, infinite. Hurts and cuts like shards of dreams. Its made of dreams
( dreams are made of stars is love made of stars? )like a body is made of cells, invisible to the
bare eye, but still there. Always there.
Now and forever, till death do us apart.

Reality may bruise you, dreams may cut. Love will reign supreme until it will rip your
heart. And feed it to the lions. Or the cats.
Suffocating, bleeding I die.
I open my eyes. I live. (I am the missing link)
The legends sometimes have it right




A/N. There are some literary references in here and I hope some people will get them, even
though some may be more obscure ( if you are curious about that Japanese name PM me and Ill
explain, its actually quite interesting that story ). Also the Wheel of Time thing those not refer
to the fantasy novels by Robert Jordan but to the concept that he took inspiration from, meaning
the wheel of time also known as wheel of history (Kalachakra) which is a Hindus and
Buddhist concept which regards time as cyclical and consisting in repeating ages.