ReqiuemCatharsis

We are constantly driving and striving to be set free, but we can all agree, as we have seen, praying from our knees, we libel the bible and pay communion fees, just to please a god with empty pleas, and the powers that be, control our needs, our wants, our deeds, our fronts, our pleads and funds. Freedom isn't free, but it appears to me, that what we need just can't be seen. If we open our third eye, we can spread our wings, like a bird and fly away to a place, clear in our minds, a show of new face, pure and divine. This is not out of reach, it just takes a breach of social protocol, to learn and to teach, how to treat ourselves and how to

Here's a new piece, brand new, just for you, written quickly, written swiftly, not a clue, what to do, what it's about, or what's coming out of my mind, when? where? and what kind? I lost all my works, except for a few, so I'm starting over anew, slightly askew, and if my words are true, I'll deliver to you a brand new piece, right on cue. I write because it comes naturally to me, so factually, I'm accurately describing how I lost my ambition, but came back and realized my new mission... I'll continue writing what I love, Zombie Science Fiction, fits me like a glove. But at the same time, I can spit out a rhyme, suddenly stop, turn on a dime

I AM BACK! If anyone should find themselves reading this, let it be known that I have finally renewed my DA Membership (for what its worth) and I plan to start writing science fiction short stories again. I am always understanding to criticism and look forward to hearing what people think about my work, both positive and negative. I am also looking to collaborate with new people to create imaginative and ingenious new ways to captivate readers, and truly paint a picture with words. If you have not read any of my short stories, please visit my page and do so. I will gladly oblige and do the same for you. You will find that I specialize in the

The man quickly reached for his hunting knife in the sheath on his belt. Luckily, he hadn't lost it in the fall. He quickly unsheathed it and found his footing beneath him. The undead was swiftly barrelling towards him now, fiercely screaming at a deafening tone. Its mouth hung awkwardly low as if it had a broken jaw. Its eyes bugged out of its head with frightening rage and intensity. The undead's army fatigues were soiled and bloody, but not old. This being had not been undead long. The man readied himself as the undead drew closer. Just as it was about to engulf him, the man quickly juked to one side and swept the undead's legs out from be

The man suddenly heard slow, lumbering footsteps approaching his vicinity. He laid down his pack and shouldered his crossbow. The man carefully scanned the jungle for any signs of the undead. He could smell a mixture of decaying flesh and feces in the air. He then spotted an undead male, no more than 18 years old, shuffling towards him. He had numerous bullet wounds scattered over his torso, and a shotgun wound revealed his insides. Blood stained his face and neck and tainted his already soiled clothing. The man carefully advanced for a better shot. The undead's eyes were sunken in and glazed over with a blue-moon hue. His lips snarled as he

The moon lit up the camp as the man slept lightly, always remaining vigil. He had chosen to remain on his own, ever since the beginning of the undead apocalypse. He had always been somewhat of a loner. He had no wife, no family to speak of on the island. He thought to himself, amidst the chaos of the unravelling of society that he ought to remain alone, and out of sight of the military. For the military, during this time, was acting on its own behalf. No orders from Washington, no higher ups, no red tape, no morals to distract them from their task at hand. The military's only perspective was to eliminate the threat of the undead and other sur

Deep in a nightmare of sleep, his boney finger twitched rapidly and grazed over the trigger of his double barrelled shotgun. He was suddenly ripped out of sleep as the deafening shotgun round was discharged, narrowly missing his head. As he gathered his thoughts, he realized he had fallen asleep on the rooftop balcony. With hunger biting at his stomach, he gradually brought himself to his feet and scanned the morning horizon, as he had done countless times before. The pounding on the rooftop door began almost immediately, and quickly grew unnerving. His body turned cold, and felt as if it were shutting down. He then retreated into his den and

A world condemned to a dire fate… Putrid corpses, forgotten forces of death and destruction, risen to destroy. Ripping away, and tearing decay, from what is left, of humanity. Spreading forward to consume it all, foundations destined to fall, upon us all. Ripping away, and tearing decay from what is left of humanity. No way, to delay, this decay, no replay.

People go their whole lives without moving more than the dirt their buried under, rotting in endless droves, shovelling their graves. They dig with bloody splintered hands, and kiss regret with the tip of their shovels. I can hear their screams, their muffled. I can hear them suffer, bleeding. Dig no less than six feet under. God said to me that their not worth my air, Satan then chimed the funeral bell. God replied to me that he doesn't care, bury them six feet closer to hell. People go their whole lives without moving more than the dirt their buried under, rotting in endless droves shovelling their graves.

"The End… It brings with it the beginning of a world without sin! A world without judgement or religion! No forms of government! No egos to please! No false idols to worship! For these beliefs, morals, and values die with the men that create them!"