Stupid holiday homework. They spoil everything. -.-
Knowing that the sun shines with holiday sun just warms your insides.
But after taking a step out your door,
you can feel an eerie presence shadowing you.
Brooding, cold emotions that not even the gold of the setting sun can drive away.
Lurking in the corners of your mind, caging your sanity.
Pulling you indoors, to the dark of your room.
Dread makes you collapse in your chair,
and the vast ocean of paper and ink fans out in front of you.
Hands twitching, reluctantly holding the pen.
A quiver in you lips as you write.
Cursed you are, while night dawns
Til' you drown in your labour...
This is the kind of literature that can bring BU3 to its knees! And right now its standing.
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