Ride Or Die Poems For Him Novels & Stories

They walked in chanting a song that perked Rage's ears. We come from the undergrounds of the Creep, we belong to the dark, everyone knows the dark is not to be trifled with. We have fought long and we fought hard, trying to make a name for ourselves. We come from the undergrounds of the Creep, and we are not to be trifled with. We are made of steel and we can never die, we grind the bones of our conquests beneath our feet and wrap ourselves with their bones, We are impenetrable, and we can never die. Dare to come against us and it will be your funeral.

Toward death. Toward final confrontation with a beast that won't stay dead. The baby sleeps peacefully in my arms. Don't know what we'll find up there. Don't know if we'll survive. But I know we got to try. For her. For the world. For each other. Even if it kills us. Especially then.

It seemed to sound like this: 'Why they bring an injured man from the battleground When he'd die in the mess with all the pigs around? No, he came right by himself thinking he'd bested war Ho ho ho, dig him a messy grave, dug with hands and a saw.' I realized that my mission was getting more impossible.

I nod approvingly. I mostly do want to get the fuck out of here, but my heart can’t leave until I know he’s dead. I sigh and strike a match, lighting the whole pack on fire and dropping it inside. His eyes go wide with the realization he’s about to really and truly die. That fear on his face is priceless to me. I never dreamed I’d get this chance. I’ve always assumed I’d be stuck with the memory of him attacking me and never have closure. The fear would plague me for the rest of my life, even now that I have a mate.

If I make mistakes, he makes me start over. “Pack life makes you soft,” he said after slamming me into the dirt for the third time that day. His breath was steady, while mine was ragged. "Out here, you have to be sharper, faster. You can't hesitate. Else you die.” He kept using the word, die, like it's some kind of situation he often encounters. I spat blood and dirt from my mouth and stood up, “I am not soft.” He smirked. “Then, prove it.”

"You're not worthy of love, Athijha. Just go and die. Maybe you'll find the love you've been waiting for." "What are you saying?" "You love me, right? Then die for me, Death." Tear ran faster like they're competing in a marathon. I closed my eyes and looked above. "Die for you? You know I can sacrifice everything for your love, even the world, even my life. Then, will I get the love I have been trying to win if I die? So that I can finally measure the depth of it." He nodded. "If ever that you can't find me anywhere, know that I'm gone for good. And please remember that you're the one I love the most..."

You sacrifice everything for it. As I lay in the dark, I remind myself that there are many types of love. Some, you would die for. I steel myself and silently prepare to fight when another sharp pain grabs me. I’m not sure how long I can hold out, but I must. I must hold out for him. I would die for him.

He was about to curse himself when he found neat handwriting next to his poem. Rayven was confused, but his eyes followed the words, reading it to his brain quietly. Life is not a lot Life is just a thought As beautiful as I want Does not have to haunt It is full of ups and downs Of highs and lows of different towns With lights and nights of equal time You live and die for every dime I see the light that's not too dim I see that it is not so grim So, I try to light my world for me I try to listen; not hear from me

I said, "You two are a great match. I wish you both the best." Lily was caught off guard by my calm reaction. While she went to get me some water, I casually flipped open the notebook on the table. Then, my eyes went wide. The lines scribbled on the page were from a famous poem. They were also the lyrics of my representative work, "Simple Joys", from my past life. Beside the verse, a huge red "Die" was scrawled. It had been written with such hatred and so forcefully that it had torn the paper.

He wanted to go check out the situation, but he did not have the strength to do that. In his despair, he recalled an ancient poem, and he began to mumble its lines. "Abed, motionless, in a lonely village. For myself, I sorrow not. All I seek is the defense of my country's frontier. And a station there we share. Lying in the depth of the night, I listen to the winds blowing the rain and iron-clad horses o'er frozen rivers. As of old, invade my dreams again..." All he wanted was to do something for Nine Mainland, to defend it against the Raksasa Tribe, and yet there he was; he was powerless. It was almost as if the poet was referring to him. Drown in his thoughts, Darryl let out a bitter laugh