http://slow.writerscafe.org/lonewolfe The original writings of author LoneWolfe en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776021712 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 A dream of being strangled. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411446/  “ How deep inside himself is he? Fathoms? Miles? Light-years? How deep and how dark? And the answer came back to him: Too deep to see out. He’s hiding down there in the darkness and it’s too deep to see out.” – Ray Garraty, The Long Walk .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411443/ Change is of heaven and of hell, for lives can be saved as well as burned, and the only differences between the two separate outcomes are dependant upon the individual view of the experience. It is hard to see the light through a collapsing tunnel because the clouds of pain billow and cover the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411343/ of hearts and of the heavens;of clovers and of rose;of streams and of the mountains;of rainbows and of gold...of deer in shining forests;of horses chasing wind;of butterflies on stone;of oceans without end;pure poetic emotionin all i swore i knew - i thought i'd known true be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411341/ Lost and alone.i dwell within and between.lawless.beliefless. therefore,alone.may a different tomorrow be?NO! i must not dream.dreams are like windows.transparent.shatterable.my past but broken glass.shards to open a wrist with. to cry, to bleed,is one.“.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411340/ Remorse.nothing worth welcoming.yet, nothing worth running from.nowhere to hide anyway. even epicurean frolics and f***sare delusional escapes back into reality’s realm.listening in articulated ripplesas the caverns of self pity scream obscenities that reflect unbounded u.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411339/ wings of broken crosses beatwithin a willow’s sigh,as rotting walls buried lowspeak in rhyme that verses by.i hear the rising thunderthat rocks the bells to singof believers under weeds,broken stones, and faceless names.with naked stareof watered eye, i ebb alone&lsqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411338/ when the mirror staresback into me, the past smearsthe future into smudgedreflections of swirlingmemory that swallowsdream. as fate then shatters,the shardssplinterinto splittingglass that slicescarsinto the softflesh of hope- and screamsalone dull not the pain. the peeled .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411337/ In the darkness, the sound crept upon him from below.          Thwump. “What the f**k is this?” Thwump. “What is she doing?” Thwump. “Help me. Someone please help me, God! I’m alive, I’m stil.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411105/ “Dan?”“Dan, darling, can you hear me?” The voice was the first pleasing echo he heard that night, and the only that he had felt since he had fallen into this nightmare. He knew its tender chorus, for she had used it many times when he needed comfort or r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411104/           When he arose, he pounced on the earth under the stone. In a digging frenzy, he ripped through hardened soil and threw clumped grass behind him. His hands were breaking open. His mouth could not generate saliva. The sides of his throat seemed to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411103/ It was eerie how beautiful the grass looked. Climbing with the inclination of gradient lawn and surfaced in vibrant neon, it seemed to create a barrier between mortality and cessation. The green pierced into the gray that hovered dead and lifeless like the bodies under this .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411102/ When Dan had opened his eyes, his world had stopped spinning- but he did not feel it.“What the…”          He stopped abruptly as the words he spoke seemed to weigh heavier than the thick ambiance of the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411101/ Revenge is best served cold when dished up a woman scorned. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411098/ If only I could be as blind to Yesterday as I am with Tomorrow... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/411011/ "In the end, the dead man had won after all. He was whom she wanted to be with. She had my life but desired him even in death. And it was then that I decided to give her what she wanted the most..." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lonewolfe/410998/