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I was happy once, lived more free then I ever had known before. I never knew this feeling, it was like something out of folklore. Magical almost in its brilliance, the feeling of being loved But then discarded like trash and told was no good, nothing is worse then being unloved. Nothing seems to matter anymore, not people nor things I enjoy I don't even like myself anymore, why can't I find any joy? But joy returns again, in the hope that I'll find love again. A new love, a love without the mistakes of the past. Perhaps a stronger kind of love, one that will outlast.

Life is living in a forest. A forest at night. It is a dark place where nothing seems quite right. To make it through this dark place you'll need a flash light. Some are lanterns, old but reliable but do not last forever. Others are torches and burn ever so brightly but lasting forever? Never. No, what you'll need is a flash light. They are hard to come by, do not be  mistaken But when you find one, hold on tight or else be forsaken. For in the dark forest there is much to be afraid and being alone in the dark is no life at all So make sure you hold on tight to that flashlight, or else run into a wall.

Chapter ii: Old "friends" Evan walked down the path Joe had pointed out to him. This particular street soon took him out of Greater Bastion City into the historical district, and the surrounding area looked like the peaceful village that he remembered growing up in. Continuing down the street, he passed by the local police station; he had been there a few times before when he was younger, not for anything serious. He could see two police officers outside on the steps and, distinctly, remembered one of them as Sheriff Shirley. He was conversing with a younger officer most likely a new recruit. Sheriff Shirley was a good man who followed the

Roses are red and violets are blue I know its cliche but I love you I love the way you talk and the way you walk I could write I love you on the board until I run out of chalk I might say it lot but I mean it every time, its not all for not. I really do love you Why else would I write you this poem, its not just cause your hot

Under the pale moonlight It feels just right And as your arms grow tight around me. I feel your warmth with glee. We dance together, close at hand and I find it hard to stand. For your mind is sound, your beauty unbound No more is that clearer then under the pale moonlight I lean in for the final act, its a kiss as matter of fact. Our lips grow closer to one another. Everything fades, there are no others. Just you and me, under the pale moonlight.

The space between us is ever so cold, My desire for her warmth grows ever more bold To bad I can't reach her heart and mind, she hides it from me from time to time. One last chance to seize my love once more. I'll have to try harder now, more then ever before

Chapter I My grandfather's errand Morning came early today, bright skies pushing the few clouds off the horizon as it touched the ocean. Calm waves glistened as the monorail zoomed by. There weren't many people traveling on it today. After all it was Sunday, the lazy day. No one did much of anything on this particular day. Most shops were closed and services halted. The only reason the monorail was working was because it was automated. There were a few passengers. One was an elderly man who wore a 19th century suit and top hat. He was reading the newspaper; "Bastion times" was the title. He seemed focused. The man sat at the far front of t