Ink-Geek

Because We’re Friends ~Prologue “S-Stay away, monster!” The man—Viola’s father, pointed the hunting rifle at the slumped, bleeding body in front of us. She was a girl with a ruined dress, her long, purple hair was streaked with blood, her eyelids were slack where her eyes should have been, the hallow of it was dripping out with blood; the girl’s legs have been chopped off and when she crawled; blood, gut and ichors were being trailed just behind her. “Fh....fha...aa...th...” she tried to talk—but it was useless. Her throat was burnt by the medicine I had given her. “Dh...” she tried aga

I AM THE MUSIC Today is just another day When music is your only companion You learn many different things about other people And listen to their favorite music That means something to them If only they would also listen to my favorite songs ‘Cause the lyrics say something I am too afraid to say

ART Art is expression - the stroke of my brush, the splash of the paint, the trail of my ink. Joy, melancholy, patience – all mixed into an array of colors which paint the world I live in. I am eloquent without speaking, I harmonize without singing. The paint is my arrow; the brush is my bow. Mom used to say that It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done. She used to let me paint everything I wanted – the water dripping off the tap, the ants crawling up the wall, the birds resting on the wires –