Ride Or Die Poems For Him Novels & Stories

Can’t I? I don’t have any other options anymore, Oh God… If I can’t have him by my side, I’d rather die… It’s impossible I go on with my life with all these pain, misery, sadness, gloom, and nay darkness without Erito by my side. I’d rather die than see Erito together with that lucky boy whom he really likes and loves. I’d rather die… I don’t wanna live forever like this, with all these pain, misery and suffering. I don’t want it… I don’t want it...

I must have dozed off while I was reading earlier. The Poems of Francis Ledwidge – the moth-eaten emerald green book I found in the study – is lying next to my pillow, the gold-embossed oak leaves on the cover glinting in the lamplight. The last thing I remember reading before nodding off was a poem gran had often sung to me as a bedtime lullaby. That book of the page is creased, dog-eared. The poem is about a water spirit who died after falling in love, which seemed to be one of Francis Ledwidge’s favorite themes – doomed love, tragic, beautiful maidens and lots and lots of flowers.

His every struggle and freedom attempt proves futile. His attempts to pull free my death grip continually prove futile and useless. I contemplate driving my claws into him. They'll poison him. That I secretly desire but reluct and contemplates performing. I desire him a slow painful, bone destroying and life wasting death. Claw poisoning is the cowards way. It's only but an escape means. He'll be death in an hour or two over claw poisoning. That's unsatisfying. It's no slow painful abd life pleading death. I desire and crave he suffer more.

My wife, Aspen Harrod, was the richest person in this city, but I was just a lowly househusband. To celebrate her birthday, I used the two hundred dollars that I had saved for many years to buy her a birthday cake and a red rose. On the way to pick up the cake with my son, Jude Anderson, we ran into a car accident. Jude only suffered minor injuries with my protection, but I was in critical condition. Before I died, Jude gave Aspen three calls. In the first call, Jude cried. He said that I was seriously injured in the car accident, and I was covered in blood. Aspen snorted. “Is that weak-willed man thinking of new ways to get money from me? Sure, I’ll give you ten dollars. It shou

She asks, lost in his eyes, lost in the soft sensation of his touch. "I'm scared of an ending Even a happy one. I never finish a sentence Cause I fear you will not be there to answer. I never end a thought Cause I fear you will not be in the next one. I never feared death Cuse I thought I am imortal. But you, my love Are poison for the Gods." He whispers the poem in her ear like the rest of the world is not supposed to hear the words, like the wind is not supposed to carry them anywhere else. They are just for her.

he said and that was when I did something that if it doesn't work then I'll be dead in a second. Follow me on i*******m for updates @pere_theheartbroken_poet

he said with a lot of energy running through body. "You are not in the right frame of mind to fight Clyde. Please stay," she looked at his face with care hoping he would listen to her. "Kiara our love! If I stay here and the war overcomes them, I will still die. It is better I die honourably," he said and laid his hand on her cheek, "Kiara! We are called the devil's triplets not because of how wicked we are, but how strong we are together," he said and walked off with his last strength.

Everyone turned to look at Chase anxiously as this thought crossed everyone’s minds. Chase’s expression remained calm as usual. He placed one hand behind his back and took one step forward. He acted as if he were strolling in a garden as he chanted softly. “No fear for hundreds! “No retreat for revenge! “No place for cowardice! “No room for injustice!” Everyone’s jaws fell at this. Why was he reciting a poem at a time like this? “He sure is in the mood for melancholy when he’s about to die!” Harlem stared at Chase and laughed savagely.

Wear me, or let the world burn. The pressure in the air solidified. The hunger had a name. I held the shard up to the moon. And the decision I made would either save us all… …or bury us in the dark.

As he smiles and reads the poem out loud, for he does not have anything to lose at this point, as his life is already swimming into its curses. “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 a world where everything is pretty much boring. Take it or leave as you will always pay the price. Uncanny it may seem, but it is full of pride. Hell’s down and heaven’s above. Would you dare sin between? If everything comes with a price to be sealed? Come, take my hand, our journey is yet to overrun, as this game continues and your soul is the price.