I Started Writing Seriously When I Was

Day Just Smiles At Me, An Expression So Sad That It Breaks Through My Numbness, And I Begin To Cry. Those Bright Blue Eyes. Before Me Is The Boy Who Has Bandaged My Wounds On The Streets Of Lake, Who Has Guarded His Family With Every Bone In His Body, Who Has Stayed By My Side In Spite Of Everything, The Boy Of Light And Laughter And Life, Of Grief And Fury And Passion, The Boy Whose Fate Is Intertwined With Mine, Forever And Always. "i Love You," He Whispers. "can You Stay Awhile?

I'm Telling You That You Got Your Facts Wrong. I Didn't Kill Your Brother. But You Killed My Mother. You Might As Well Have Held The Gun To Her Head!

Absolute Power Is Absolute Power, No Matter What It's Called.

You Try To Walk In The Light.

I'd Once Been Fascinated By His Legend - All The Stories I'd Heard Before I Met Him. Now I Can Feel That Same Sense Of Fascination Returning. I Picture His Face, So Beautiful Even After Pain And Torture And Grief, His Blue Eyes Bright And Sincere. I'm Ashamed To Admit That I Enjoyed My Brief Time With Him In His Prison Cell. His Voice Can Make Me Forget About All The Details Running Through My Mind, Bringing With It Emotions Of Desire, Or Fear Instead, Sometimes Even Anger, But Always Triggering Something. Something That Wasn't There Before.