Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
VISUAL PROMPT
Write a story or poem based on these images
Writings
In those quiet tender moments
With your first cup of coffee in hand
Are you a monster then?
Are those horrid
Insatiable
Violent
Maniacle thoughts racing through your head?
Because sometimes I wonder
How could live with themselves?
How could they think any other thought
When they already know their hands will be red by nightfall?
Before the day has even begun
They are already in need of con...
Deep in the roots of the ruined city, Kayla poured her last cup of coffee. The steam poured out like the smoke of fires from the burning of bombings. The cup shook.
Around the blooded wounds on her legs continued to throb and her muscles coiled in agony. Yet she sat and drank her coffee. The apparently empty pistol disregarded on the counter.
“Selfish prick” she spat at the corpse of her former ma...
It’d only been 3 days since the latest homicide had reached my desk, and still I had nothing to go on. I’d been pondering the weird murder for an hour already this morning and i just couldnt see how it managed to fit into the rest of the killings.
All other victims of The Barbershop Butcher had been women in their early twenties, and all of them had been employees of local strip clubs or bars ...
As I reflect I must confess
Am I really the best to which I can attest
Am I slipping into darkness as I begin to rest
Or Can I live up to life’s great test
As everyone goes away
It seems like darkest paves the way
I hate to see light fade away
But in this hour what saves the day
Hope.
Hope to see my old man days
Hope to be remember in a happy way
Hope to accomplish all my dreams
...
It’d only been 3 days since the latest homicide had reached my desk, and still I had nothing to go on. I’d been pondering the weird murder for an hour already this morning and i just couldnt see how it managed to fit into the rest of the killings.
All other victims of The Barbershop Butcher had been women in their early twenties, and all of them had been employees of local strip clubs or bars...
Coffees steaming hot, another day does begin. Look out the window clear skies no rain to be seen, but the streets are filled with umbrellas, held up by those protesting. Extradition to the mainland, where the innocent will never win, guilty or not the outcomes still the same, locked in a cell and the key gets thrown away. Only way out is if you play their little game, no ordinary jigsaw, sanities...
Blood drenched all over the road
Tears falling going to the cheek
People does not have to be bold
On doing things for them to be seek
Whenever witness speaks
Our heart brokes into piece
Pain from humans are underrated
But does this have to be debated?
Eyes speaks a hundred word
Experiences that made them hurt,
The only words that they utter
is “help me, Lord”
Forgiveness is hard to think
But J...