myOtaku.com: sailorcrystal

myO Still <3's You

Vitals

Birthday
• 1991-01-05
Gender
• Female
Location
• throughout the vast infosphere network
Member Since
• 2004-05-05
Occupation
• metal collecter
Real Name
• Nazo or what most of my friends call me...Dracula..

Personal

Achievements
• pulling myself apart for others, achieving peace with myself
Anime Fan Since
• 5, ( sailormoon 1st aired)
Favorite Anime
• descendents of darkness, tsubasa,chrono crusade, FMA, rurouni kenshin,fruits basket,naruto,trigun, full moon,aria,ghost in the shell, clamp works, and others
Goals
• collect even more manga, and rid the world of my misfortunate cousin
Hobbies
• reading, collecting manga, sometimes writing poems, and collecting pieces of metal.
Talents
• expressing emotion in the ocassional poem, and serious devotion and loyalty

myOtaku.com: sailorcrystal

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Racketering
Moonlight dimly filtered through a dusty window frame,the glass long since a cleared diamond brilliance.
The beams crawls, gently illuminating only what is in view.
The chaise lounge chair by the gritty window's panes seems to be crying in this silence.
The side table remains undesturbed by the aged lounge, quietly protesting to leave.

The cold wind carries this message across what is left of the ages.
A window, a chair, and a table near the night sky, the astrnomer's spot had grown cold from loneliness.
The scene etched on the moon is a rare secret ever shared in the mutual exchange of time and insistance.
Grit falls upon silken rugged floors and a piece of the window is bared to the harsh world outside oncemore.

In the astronomer's corner stands a shadow long forgotten, the void scenery of the outside world is viewed through transcluscent eyes.
The moon shines dimmly in the sky and the frozen earth below illuminates the message of sorrow as if no longer in grief.
The flow of a pathway through rivers of blighted crimson from that day, a moment in time continues anew.
The vivid description haunts the mind with no avail, dankly invisible wisps silently escape from the cracks in the walls of the infastructure.

Pain unknowingly staining the inner workings of my nightmares.
Chants in turn with smog from the candles in the last room, swindle the beating in the night, the city that never sleeps.
The rapping against the walls is all too familiar, the tiny noise grows louder and louder until the glass crashes into the room
and a steel chair lies overturned from the impact from the outside world.

We hear screams and giddy wails of barding.
The bangs against the floor, crackling the 400 year old tiles and splintering the table in the main room within this hell hole.
The loud bangs against the floors, course through the body as if no barrier existed, this turmoil rattles my brains.
I think I have a manmade conclusion from all the racketering.

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