| My name is Katie and I have been writing for what seems like forever. I enjoy the topic of Lycanthropy and the Undead. I try ever so hard to be friendly or outgoing. Feel free to read my work. |


Wolves of Henryton pt. III+IVIII. Funeral procession Sobbing mothers Police officers Fruit punch And thenWolves of Henryton pt. III+IV
Life went on The pack went on Not knowing of my deed And Robin was forgotten At least from my mind
School prevailed And so did my lack of interest In the world around me
But it was at least one month after the murder My murder That I heard the most enchanting of lullabies Compositions Masterpieces From the second story auditorium After school
Nimble fingertips To softly patted Piano keys Crying out


Wolves of Henryton I. + II.There were five of us We were family, kin, relatives A pack Chasing daybreak beneath a huntress moon Sipping polluted red wine With silver tooth and claw outward As we held our crystal glassesWolves of Henryton I. + II.
Henryton was haunted Not by spirits But by our ghosts Monsters were said to roam there Ears like satellites Stretched, scraggly legs Claws like demons Teeth like daggers
We werent monsters We swear Its just that sometimes things get misconstrued When one of our victims gets out alive
Thats why no one h
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"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. "
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Once, the idea of electricity was magical, now we wield it like a tool, are we wizards?
--
What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.
She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.
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