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ForgottenOne

  • darkness

    Angle of darkness black wings enclose me in a blanket of darkness blood dripping out of the wounds they came from on my back in my smile you see fangs ...

    • Poetry
    • Lyrical
    1 min read
  • beats of the rain

    the rain falls drops falling from the sky drop drop ping and the sound makes a beat drop drop ping drop drop ping drop and then all you have to ...

    • Poetry
    • Other
    1 min read
  • good bye

    i found a note on the wall the note was in blood i wounder who wrote it becouse there was no name and all that was said was i'll miss ...

    • Poetry
    • Dramatic
    1 min read


It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien