If you ask a person how they want to die,
Most people quite agree.
The best way to go is quietly,
Sleeping in, utterly carefree.
But if you ask a Viking, it’s a different matter,
As this is what they’ll say.
Die with honour and vigour, sword in your hand,
And it’s worth having to go away.
Away to Valhalla where you’ll sit among,
The greatest warriors ever to die.
Odin himself is sat not far from you,
As you listen to the battle cry.
So what will it be, if you had to choose?
Sleeping peacefully in, or the never-ending booze?
She was steel.
Back straight, head held high.
No blushes, sideways glances,
Nothing coy and nothing shy.
She was steel.
Always standing proud and tall.
And determined to never fall.
She was steel and yet so kind.
For strength does not leave compassion behind.
I’ve decided that I am writing a book.
Or at least that is what I’m trying.
Maybe it would be more correct to say,
I’m just keeping myself from crying.
But maybe I just need words to come out,
Instead of writing, I’ll try a recorder.
Then afterward I can begin to worry,
About the words and about the order.
I dream of a character, who’s funny and deep,
And all my readers truly adore him.
But for now, my only wish is this:
To not kill my readers through boredom.
And the hope that keeps me going is really quite simple.
The second book will be easier, oh, please God will it
I got a French manicure today.
(And my husband left me).
It’s a very stylish look.
(He says that the woman he loved is dead).
I think perhaps I’ve never looked better.
(He says he misses my laughter).
And that is all that matters now.
That instinct that makes us
Use our tongue
To push against that stubborn tooth
Hanging insistently by a single thread.
Just to see if it still hurts.
A/N: A literary reference.
Hint: Think 18th century Gothic.
A ventriloquist’s antics.
Causes him to break.
Insanity bringing death.