El Poema Tomino Mga Nobela at Kwento

She dances gracefully at the ominous and dark room as she wonders and hum the eerie tone with her mind that pin and sinks to the poem she made and curse to the very core. “Well, well, well, who among you readers wanted to read my hell of a curse poem?” Teasing a daring, she continues to hum the devil’s lullaby as she whispers the words of the poem. TOMIKO’S HELL Round and round our life spins and about Twist and turn you can hear a silent scream Up and down what a lovely dream Until you find yourself eating a flesh cream Oh, how ironic living and dying In the world where everything is pretty much boring

The look on Slate’s face said it all as Nya stood there with the Heart of Magic tight in her fist. The soldiers’ faces told her that they recognized that it was too late, that they had let the magical gem fall into enemy hands. One of the soldiers held a sword to Slate’s throat, his hands trembling. Nya hadn’t even realized that he was under their control until the tip of the sword pierced his skin, and a tiny droplet of blood rolled down the edge.