There is not to much to say about me, for little is left. I have no pride, no dignaty, no honor. Broken dreams and shattered hopes lay in the ashes where a proud poet once stood. Eyes cold and grey. A heart that struggles each moment to grasp another beat. And lungs that breaths blades upon which rip threw him like a cold winters day. I am bound by my own words, hide with in fears of no tomorrow, and cower with in shadows that I created from dreams that never came true. I seek not pitty or a helpfull hand. I ask not of anything. Though if hope does exsist, make me beleave for I have forgotten. "Jasper Logan Brooks" |