These are some facebook statues I wrote a while ago (5 years ago). Used to do them a lot, but gave up, as nobody cared. Tell me what you think?
Swept alongside a golden splendour seashore, seashells remained laden in a narrow rounded sea-salt ridden puddle of water, until the late afternoon, when the sun, would fall into a near limitless stars, when the pretty, but rounded seashells, unique in design, would disappear into the the bounty-less ocean, glistening in the sunset with practised bravado, seawater wind whispered 'gone forever'.
A dead rose ended love as quickly as it started, it was never meant to last, I guess you call it fate, or some odd destiny that god chose for me, all I know is a dead rose was always there when it ended, my heart stopped a beat, I fall into the puddle of cries.
The almighty, everyone feared felt blue emotions towards hell. Faith remained within it's dead steam, hope, hope for everyone who found it.
I saw Count Dracula, his hellish eyes reveling, a radiance ablaze with pitch forks of hell gazing into my indigo eyes , boundless emotion struck me, I was feeling fear, fear of blue, hell had an engagement with heaven. I am the victim.
In the winter haziness of early December, a winter storm shook from the central part of town, in a winter circular blaze, it was like a tornado that could twist our souls and freeze our hearts.
I am no longer my former-self, that time was an inky black, comparable to a black widows clutches, poison, tainted call it as you may, I dreaded myself in sorrow for my persona wasn't me, now I see the light of angels, I'm touching, acceding to it's enduring light. I am no longer me, I am myself.
I only ever wanted peace, love wasn't my cup of tea, or in my case my cup of herbal-tea, I struggled to find love, or someone interested in me, I guess I was too boring, or in my world, they were too boring for me, either way, I know it would end in bliss.
Bless Winter, death and peace entwine, busy-less bodies frail, herbal tea all round. Bless winter, bless us all.
The spew of blood untailed all over my floor, covering it with the darkish tint of a foul man.
In a time of industry and congestion, aphotic towers, spined to the nexus of the heavens to whirl it with it's fallen angel, stigma number 8 (Toxic air), filling the heavens with an overcast, that would surely scare any weather man to his skeleton. Humans would timely with no apathetic, destroy the only heaven they knew; Earth.
The blissful darkness awaited in hibernation for it's next winter-stroke message, it left a shiver with spews of red rose blood.
The freezing wind froze over my body, winter had came, I wasn't prepared. I would die this winter.
Oh, gentle, tender, rose-petal, sunlight blessed, the wind guiding you, moonlight, sunlight, the wind always took you, far across the landscapes, heaven wasn't the sky, it was the howling, only a breeze, the guidance, the jagged mountains, the riversides blessed with water, the trees hidden by shadows, the fluffy clouds amidst, the day ended.
Feeling like an outsider was always a fateful affair, only the affair wasn't my guilt, it was other people, for they left me, the outsider.
I realise something's in life, aren't meant to make sense, the puzzle soured in my mind, I could never feel warm again, deep down, I was broken, like a puppeteer strings, faded with time. I knew my fate, destiny was broken, the piano spoke.
Her mind baffled by recent events in her life lead her to believe that a glamorous death was in-store for her dear husband...She plotted briskly day in day out, watching over his baby-steps. His trail lead to a sleazy motel, with traces of a foul alcoholic stench that lingered as she gingerly grew closer.
For as much suffering the fate of living in a strange reality, I tumbled upon a mystical creature, that lead me down a path of my dreams: my fears, my happiness and a misty sorrow that could melt a winters day in to a fiery hell. Like a rainbow created in the dark oblivion, the mystical creature lingered 6ft tall with a aroma of coal that filled my heart with fear.
Life may not seem so great, but there are good people around us every day. Sometimes we choose to ignore the good and go with the bad.
Down the long road of life lead's something that can either be happiness or sorrow. It's the choices we make in life that defines the person we are, we make who we are!
Think about this. Life is a rainbow: you get your dark moments, you get your bright moments. Over time you realise, that the bright moments outweigh the dark ones.
One piece of the world is a cake and the other is a pie. But remember if you eat too much cake, you'd end up like a pie.
Is feeling down...Feel's like there's nothing more to life than to sit in this four walled room...It's not full of darkness but blue and brightly coloured...My mum's doing of course...I wish I could feel happy, but there's nothing to look forward to...It's funny, I haven't been outside in two weeks, whenever I open the door to someone, I can feel the fresh air hit my face like a punch of reality.
Still in the boxed room with the four walls, wondering if the darkness will devour the bright blue that circles my room...Still no way out of here, hoping someone will save me...Maybe I've put too much faith in humanity...I will sit and wait for time to pass, maybe someone will take notice of me...
Just came back from being outside the depths of my gloomy house...It was a pitch-black night that melted my soul. I could not believe how beautiful the darkness was...Shame there were no twinkling stars...
Would you kindly, darkly, faithfully, embrace the torch of death, engulf it's fiery atonement. Burn me, burn me until I feel the green speckles spark me full of life, until it streams through my veins again...
I am so lonely, I wish I had someone to see, someone to call, I'm just so lonely, oh yes, so lonely, so lonely tears run down my face, lonely tears, no joy, only sorrow. Now, I feel like death is my only friend, maybe in heaven or hell, I won't be so lonely...Wishing, feeling, bye...
The darkness was as bleak as a gloomy night, where werewolf's would hide to hunt their pray, I never once felt scared, or night-terrors. This was my happy place.
We're too young to understand what love is, so please don't drift away, this love is so beautiful, I don't want it to be free, I want it close to my heart, until it's light burns away.
Cry to remember, life is slow, its all so mellow, lemonade granny made, life was so tender and pillow talk, was in dreams....I cry to remember, every summer, every pillow, every dream, the lemonade granny made, oh, how I miss September...I'll cry to remember.
Oh, death, death, death....The world is full of death, oh won't you join me and the grim, after all in death, you don't pay tax, come on death is always playful, black is always in, come on, you know you want to die, oh yeah, die, die, come on, I want to die, come on sing it to the top of your lungs until you chock to death, la, la, la, la.
Don't you find it funny we all praise and love the winter paradise we call 'Christmas'? Yet, for the people with no homes that are on the streets in this winter-chill, they won't only have their blood chilled, while ours boil in the central heating, they will die, this is Christmas, while we eat and praise the death of many people, this is Christmas. So won't you all join me in a toast of death?
Blood, splatter, teardrops, someone has died and someone tittered. Was it me you, or the rest of the media-originated world? Maybe he died in vain, maybe he couldn't take the bleak paradise, we call the world around us, the world we all had an hand in creating. We shall all parish, the 'Apocalypse' is coming for all our sins! Oh, we shall be cooking tonight! The Four Horsemen are upon us!
Human beings no longer exist, so we decided to create a reality in which humans still thrived, the dreams, imagination of humanity could not be captured, the very existence faded. Only one enduring memory existed: "Mummy, I love you".
The restful cottage located in the sleepy hallow village of doorton catered to rags and riches of old. The past retained the cottage, filled with woodlice of old, the cottage was clearly falling apart, bit by bit, piece by piece. The cottage never accepted the modern outlook of new. Tainted by the past the cottage held a formidable secret...Nobody saw it, nobody knew it...Only one saw through it, he was a nobody,the eyes of the cottage knew better, he was the chosen one. The seer.
It grew nearer with every heart-felt moment, like a heating-beat, it draw nearer to the one it loved, Christmas. So I thrilled the thought of opening my presents, forgetting about the ones I shared it with, I filled the air with lust, as soon as I opened the red lined wrapping, laden with small snow-drops. My eyes awed within my avarice self, a shock struck me, my eyes lessen with excitement started to endure the tearing of my own greed...A black coal laid there.
Like a sharp, stern, thorn like prick to my dwindled heart, it punctured it like a ballon, puffing out blood, like hot air, I felt vulnerable, my love for him, tarnished any innocence I had... It hurt.
In war, soliders are like fireflies, they die young in the silence of the night.
Tear-drops, tear-drops...One day I'd fall in the puddle, that I've created.
. I'm sharing my own work here, too. Feel free to leave you're own work down below. 
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