: About Me

Soldier, poet, dreamer, writer, loner, putting things back together

My passion is ...

Writing

Why I write ...

To tell all the stories I have waiting to be shared with the reader

My first job ...

Working at a Christmas Tree Farm in Pennsylvania between college breaks

My best moment ...

The birth of my son

My inspiration ...

My dreams

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Fantasy

10 of 191

WHAT THE MIST BRINGS The air was hushed, the paths were bare, the streets were quiet and still, and townsfolk closed their shutters tight, with a glance to the cliffs past the mill, and countrymen cowered, crossing themselves, for not a man abroad would go when the grey mist rolled over the cliffs, filling the valley below. The children saw eyes full of fear, that night, for their parents would not stray out, Outside, there was not a sound to be heard, not even the night watch's shout, And the children would ask, whatever's the matter, what could scare you all so? while the grey mist rolle...

More..

• Helium Charter Member