《Poems of Fog town》 He who is below all It was cold, it was dark, as blind I was. "Spare me, please!" Was the man''s shout, Primal hunger, a carnage bout. "Leave my child!" The women pleaded, The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. As crimson quenched my thirst. Image of memories rushed in, of my life ''first''. Disconnected it was, like jumbled pieces. Still didn''t know who I was, Like a super plying a role unknown, among million mass. "Devil!" Shouted the Priest, As I wondered ''My name?'' Till his last breath he struggled, but all in vain. Village lay empty and my hunger satiated. But the answer to my questions, I still waited. What happened to Mushroom-man Fog town, a place where the story tellers gather. A young man sat near the campfire scratching his black horn, as his eyes showed a disturbed look. "What''s the problem Mefisto." His companion asked as he sat beside him. "Not much Silva," answered Mefisto. "Just that someone have changed one of the urban legend I have." "Which one?" The companion named Silva asked. "Mushroom-man." "Good riddance, I was seriously scared it was King of Yellow and Black or perhaps Moth-man." The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. "Don''t laugh, it''s a serious matter." "Mefisto." Silva asked."Why would a demon care of the urban legends that represents goodness and healing gets changed." "Well I have my reasons so can''t say." Mefisto replied. Sliva then asked with a sneer. "Oh great demon king of salvation. Haha. What were the changes." Sighing the demon replied. "Everything." Monsoon have come, little one, Have Mushroom-man you never heard. Dirty the place where he belongs, Dirty the place where he come from. His head misshaped with fungi and green plants, Crimson of young is what he wants. And during monsoon no matter you can''t, Traverse the lonely allies whenever you want. If you see his silhouette, run! Never answer to his question. For answer is his final rite, Now there are more Mushroom-man to fight. 3. Jester named Amusement Some say he is the evil one, To some he is the harbinger of war. Too many have seen him laughing, At the carnage occuring from afar. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He dances at the death of people And sing songs on massacre and scar. But is he really the cause? The cause for these unnecessary war. Has anyone seen him pull the string? Does anyone know what he bring? To me he is just a spectator musings, Musing on our foolish force way of living. 4. Is it still called love? [Scene: The room is dim, lit only by a flickering candle. Shadows slither across the walls. The Unknown Lover sits across from the Unknown Man, his eyes distant. The air between them is thick with tension.] Unknown Man: ¡°You¡¯ve never told me what really happened¡­ when she died.¡± Unknown Lover: ¡°Do you think I haven¡¯t tried to forget? That I don¡¯t relive it every night?¡± Unknown Man: ¡°But it wasn¡¯t just death, was it? Something else happened. She came back, didn¡¯t she?¡± Unknown Lover: [They look away, voice heavy with grief.] ¡°She didn¡¯t come back. Not really. Something came back in her place.¡± Unknown Man: ¡°Are you sure? If yes, what was it then?¡± Unknown Lover: ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know what it was¡­ but it wasn¡¯t her. It looked like her, spoke like her. It even knew things only she knew, but¡­ it wasn¡¯t her.¡± [The Unknown lover''s hands tremble slightly as they speak.] ¡°It was something wearing her face, pretending. Trying to be her.¡± Unknown Man: ¡°But was it dangerous?¡± Unknown Lover: ¡°No¡­ not in the way you think. It wasn¡¯t violent or cruel. It was¡­ almost kind. But it wasn¡¯t her. I couldn¡¯t feel her in it, no matter how hard I tried.¡± Unknown Man: [Softly] ¡°It still cared for you till the end, didn¡¯t it?¡± Unknown Lover: This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it[He hesitates, staring into the flickering candle.] ¡°Yes¡­ or at least, it thought it did. It knew the way she loved me, remembered everything. But it wasn¡¯t the same. There was something off, something hollow behind the way it looked at me.¡± [His voice drops to a whisper.] ¡°I could feel the absence of her. Every moment with it¡­ reminded me of her loss.¡± Unknown Man: ¡°So you knew, deep down, that she was truly gone and still...¡± Unknown Lover: ¡°Yes. Even though it had her voice, her memories¡­ it wasn¡¯t her heart but...¡± [He close their eyes, and his voice lowers as if reciting a memory he can never break free from.] ¡°Oh, your beautiful face at Death¡¯s own rite, Cold corpse as you were, in woods deep. A sinister slither near your crimson heap, Creaking bones, stiffened muscles of your last sleep.¡± [The Unknown Man leans forward, listening intently as the Unknown Lover continues in a broken, distant tone; which to be fair he would never be able to understand.] Unknown Lover: ¡°The frogs croaked in panicked repetition, The insects chittered in agitation. With a delayed thump of heart, Life came back, to old end new start.¡± Unknown Man: ¡°But it wasn¡¯t really life, was it?¡± Unknown Lover: ¡°No¡­ it was something else entirely. It moved like her, but her spirit was gone. Whatever was left¡­ it was just an echo.¡± [He pause, as if the truth is too much to for him bear.] ¡°I could see it wasn¡¯t her, but something trying desperately to be her.¡± Unknown Man: ¡°And you couldn¡¯t love it, could you?¡± Unknown Lover: ¡°I wanted to. But I couldn¡¯t. No matter how much I tried to believe she was back, I knew¡­ it wasn¡¯t her anymore. Just a shadow of who she was.¡± [He lower their voice, almost a whisper.] ¡°But the vigorous life was yours no more, For it has taken over, your mind and your soul. Unknown its origin, unknown its goals, Unknown its reason to choose such a role.¡± [A long silence fills the room as they both sit by each other, not one daring to speak first.] Unknown Man: ¡°It still felt something though. If it had her memories, her feelings¡­ was it still love?¡± Unknown Lover: [He looks up, his voice strained, as if he have asked himself this question thousand times.] ¡°I don¡¯t know. It felt like love, but without her, can you even call it that? If it¡¯s not her, how can it be the same?¡± Unknown Man: ¡°Is it still called love?¡± Unknown Lover: ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been asking myself every day.¡± 5. Last night (He sits in the damp, musty dark place, whispering to himself, the silence heavy around him only his breath could be heard.) Man: "Priest''s silvery, flower end bed..." (He pauses, staring into nothing.) "Is this how it ends?" (He lets out a breath, trembling.) Man: "Spring darker than darkness... Her song... Her Nightingale''s song Divine." "I see it every night... That last look in your eyes." (He sighs, barely above a whisper.) Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Man: "All of us... subject to Death." (He shakes his head, swallowing hard.) "But what choice did I have? What else could I have done?" Man: "A pilgrim... That''s what I am now." (His voice cracks.) "Her kingdom... our Home Divine." (He falls silent, a tear slipping down his cheek.) "I¡¯ll carry you with me... forever." Priest''s silvery, flower end bed, Night at the end of our time. Spring darker than darkness, Her Nightingale''s song Divine. All of us subject to Death, All captive of mortal time. Living world just a pilgrim, Her kingdom our Home Divine 6. Godess Blazing Scale As I was layed in my coffin, my spirit just beside my family. I wasn''t able to feel the gravity of what just occurred. A Reaper standing beside me sung. "It''s time, Dead oh Dead! Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. No more death awaits. What''s done is done, lost is lost, Now, only final judgement waits. Oh! Foolish mortal, why fear Death When fate worse awaits you? After your murmurs of ''Last Breath''. Death is not what breaks you."