Dinner--alone.Each night, Alex Johnson dines alone.Dinner--alone. by ~Rizareth
It's not really a problem, he thinks,
Though the dining table really is too big
For just one person.
Maybe he'll get a smaller one,
So it'll look less empty.
Tonight he's eating lasagna
Out of a microwaveable dish.
He's quite the eligible bachelor,
His friends sometimes remind him--
He's an accomplished cook,
He likes to clean, and he even
Enjoys doing the laundry.
And who really ENJOYS doing laundry?
But despite all this
Each night, Alex Johnson dines alone.
Why is that, he sometimes wonders,
When his mother thinks he's such
A great catch. If he's really so
Wonderful, why hasn't anyone
RooftopsAs the morning sun peeks over the cityRooftops by ~Rizareth
A sharp ear may detect a rushing sigh
Moving from rooftop to rooftop to rooftop.
A collective unrest; a depression, if you will.
It is as if the roofs themselves dread
The dawning of each new day, the silence,
The loneliness.
As the same light of dawn strikes the cobblestones
Of the city's well-worn streets, however,
A different sound quickly overwhelms
The sadness of the rooftops.
It is a cacophony of laughter, a rising wave
Of joy, of comradeship, of excitement.
Each day brings a new story; a new beginning.
It is a sharp and overwhelming contrast
To the quiet monotony above.
And when, f
DraculaI killed Dracula last night;Dracula by ~Rizareth
Bastard just wouldn't give up--
Kept getting uglier and standing up again.
In the end it was fruitless;
I put him down--but not for good--
He'll come back in the next game.
I guess that's life; the more we fight,
The less beautiful we become.
The older we get, the uglier we get,
And the more stubborn we end up.
Poor Dracula's doomed to relive the same fate,
Over and over again.
Rise to fall; fall to rise.
Sometimes we learn, but usually
We don't.
Only Dorian Grey can show us the same face
No matter how many mistakes he makes,
No matter how many times he falls.
He and Dracula are cut from the same
Tired 
Sta.sh
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