Poem - Falling Angel

Here is another poem of mine
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Fallen Angel
By Krystina Grant
August 9, 2006

I fell through the darkness
Stars like diamond dust my only light
Scattered across the sky
Black as death . . .

Once I flew so high
Touching the sky was possible

Anything was possible . . .

Yet time is not so kind
And my wings of white
Have turned to black
Now broken and failing me

I plummet toward the ground
Knowing it is the end of all I have ever known
That darkness will take me

But I am only a single angel
Alone
Falling . . .

Poem - Cast Down

This is a poem I wrote a long time ago.

Cast Down
by Krystina Grant
July 31, 2006

In the darkest depths of hell
Beyond the fires
Into the darkness
Into the cold

There is where I reside
Alone
Fearful
Cloaked by the shadows
Away from the light

Nothing to save me
No one . . .
I feel nothing but pain
Sadness

Crying out for salvation
Yet met with nothing
But more darkness
More pain

There is no escape . . .

Another Writing Exercise - Word Meadow

I wrote this a couple of years ago, but it's one of my favorites.
******

He wasn't supposed to have found her. She thought she'd covered her tracks. But somehow, there he was . . . unfortunately. The idea was that it would be over. She'd be alone and at least find peace. There would finally be peace and no more pain.

She stared out across the meadow. It had been her place of solitude so long ago. She'd forgotten than she'd taken him here. Her mistake, she thought sadly.

With a long ragged breath, she closed her eyes.

"You need to leave, Daniel," she said.

"Not without you," he said simply.

She couldn't look at him. His chiseled face and blue eyes . . . strong like stone, but she knew the side he hid from the world. Like all of them, he had a soft spot too and apparently she was it. But she didn't want to be it. She wanted it over.

"Lara, you can't do this," he said softly.

"But I can," she replied.

He saw her finger twitch on the trigger, as the pistol with silencer was pressed firmly against her temple. He knew she was serious. He'd seen it in her from the moment they'd met. But somehow he had to stop her. After everything, he couldn't lose her.

"Lara, just take a moment. Just think . . . Tell me why," he implored; anything to stall the dark haired beautiful before him from taking an action that could not be undone.

"You know why," she said. "Just leave me." She choked back a sob. "I am tired. I am sick of the world we live in. I can't live with the memories of the world I somehow managed to survive. The bullet is just making things official. I was dead a long time ago."

"No, Lara," he said. "You weren't. I felt you alive in my arms. When I kissed your neck and your shoulder . . . Your heartbeat would rise . . ."

For a moment, he thought he saw her waiver.

"That's life . . . right there, your heart beating . . . heat . . . touch . . ." He slowly inched toward her. But immediately, he saw her stiffen again. The momentary waiver was gone.

"That was . . . lust," she said. "Chemistry . . . hormones . . . pheromones . . . nothing more."

"Is that what you honestly believe?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, but even the softness of her voice fractured at the simple word. It was a lie. Only he could read her so well.

"Then look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me," he said. He needed to get close enough to her. If he could look into her green eyes, then maybe he'd have a chance . . . stall her . . . save her . . .

She battled with her feelings. It was like a raging storm and there was no end in sight. She felt as if she was a ship constantly being bashed upon the rocks over and over again. Pain just grew and now he was here. She'd wanted to shield him from this side of herself, but someone he'd known. He's sensed it and followed her. She didn't want him witnessing this final end to her pain . . . to have the image carried with him forever of her weakness and inability to fight the pain any longer.

Barely above a whisper as she bit back tears; she implored him. "Daniel, please just go . . . I don't want you here."

"Look me in the eyes, Lara," he said. "You look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me and I'll leave you."

Steeling herself for the lie to come, she swallowed hard. Carefully, she moved, never taking the gun from her hand, or away from her temple. Her green eyes were like marble by the time she gazed at him; hard and cold. She'd learned to do that well long ago.

"I don't love you," she said with as much cold as she could muster. But through her emotional fog of pain, she noticed he seemed closer . . . too close . . . She had to act. She didn't want him to see, but now there was no choice.

He had used her indecision to inch closer; distracting her with his request. Seeing the muscle in her arm begin to twitch, he struck like a snake, grabbing the weapon from her and pulling out the clip tossing both as far as he could out into the meadow. She moved to stop him, but was met with nothing but his muscular chest. She pushed against him and shoved at his chest, but in the end, she just dissolved into tears.

His arms held her close. Finally . . . the tears . . . she needed the tears and he needed her. The man made of ice wasn't any longer, not since meeting the girl made of fire. Their line of work rarely made for happy endings one way or another, but he would find a way; for them.

Lara had run so far and so long trying to escape the past that had always haunted her and the overwhelming pain that came with it. She'd never trusted anyone; never let the walls down far enough to allow anyone in until Daniel. He'd made it through her defenses and wanted to save her . . . he wanted to save her so badly, but she wasn't sure she could be saved.

"Don't give up, Lara," he said softly as he kissed her forehead. "Don't give up on me or yourself."

Suddenly, in the distance, she heard the sound of a helicopter. Her eyes turned to Daniel's questioningly. "Thought you needed help," he said simply and before she could argue or struggle, he used a small injector at the artery in her neck and tranqed her. He watched as her eyes grew glassy. "I love you, Lara, and if you think I'm going to just let you die, you've got another thing coming . . ."
Those were the last words she heard before everything faded away into darkness.

A Positive Thought When You Have One of Those Days!

Thankfully I haven't HAD one of those days lately, but tonight I am a bit tired and just wanted to share something empowering! 

The Butcher, The Baker or the Candle Stick Maker?

Who do you think would be the scariest bad guy? Would he be rich or poor? Intelligent? A good worker? A slacker? A gentle voice or something scary in it? What makes the perfect bad guy to you? I know what scares me!! But what scares you?? 

The Story That Needs a Good Title! :-)

Working Title - The Protector

The psycho in the story is going after Emily, the main female character. But she has also met another man who she seems to have clicked with. There is more to the story, but as you can tell, it's a bit of a suspense story, so I don't want to give too much away. I don't know if it's enough for some ideas for titles from you guys, but I'd love to hear some ideas! Who knows! I might pick one!

So if you have an idea for it just suggested it. Oh! And the psycho has "lovers," but none are alive now. Another bit of inspiration! ;-)

Brain Storming Day!!

I'm feeling so clear-headed today despite not sleeping in the last 28 1/2 hours!  But I'm happy that my newest story that I gave a taste of on here is coming along. I have several scenes plotted out in my head and I have the majority of the story. Now I just have to settle down and start writing. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. But today was brain storming and it was fantastic! By the way, I have a working title for it, but I don't like it. I will try to explain the story a bit and see if anyone can come up with something. The working title is "The Protector," but it's a boring title. I am thinking more of something that deals with the psycho. Think that's a good idea? I'm open to opinions on this!