Authors-Unlimited

Death around me Bloodied hands The Destruction made By the monster I am I can’t stop I’ve gone too far I’m to finish What I started I hear screams But nobody's screaming I see blood But nobody is bleeding Where are the screams Coming from? Is it from inside Or maybe above? Where's the blood Coming from? From my insides? From that of my Love's? I go to seek For an answer. What created these Calls of despair I cry out, Out of shame Scream. Shout I'm the one to blame I look at the destruction I made. What am I? Can I stop? I shake. I can't stop I stand; I must finish What I started More blood; all the deaths. More dest

In the dead hours of the early morning, Joseph sat impatiently on his sofa, frequently checking his watch to count the passing seconds. Clear irritation and anxiety frowned on his face. His foot pounded viciously against the hardwood floor. Then, the soft clicks of tumblers reached his ears and the front door slowly creaked open. A girl fumbled inside, clearly striving to muffle her own movements as she closed the door behind her with a soft thud and tiptoed her way towards the stairs. Joseph switched on the lamp next to him, eliciting a startled yelp from the girl. "Do you have any clue what time it is?" Joseph nearly bellowed at her, digg

What happens when the 80s televisions most beloved elephant meets his not-quite dead old enemy and the world's biggest (and most infamous) non-conservative hate group? Hillarity! “May I come out now Caleste?” King Babar called from inside his room. “Not yet Babar.” Caleste replied. “I don’t see why I’ve got to stay in here.” Babar said. “I mean who could possibly be coming that would require me to wait in here until they show up?” “It’s a surprise.” Caleste replied. Babar was confused. As the king of Calesteville, and the one who had saved his herd from the hun

My dear, take me to a place where there's no light. To a place where the darkness will conceal your beauty. To shroud you in majestic mystery. My dear, take me to a place where the light won't hold sway. Where each touch is cold as ice. Where your words are a whisper's breath. My dear, let us close the gates of light, for only then may our love truly burn bright.

The Book of Ruth The book of Ruth technically has not stated author as it seems to have been written anonymously. However, there are indeed theories of its authorship and the purposes therein. The most popular theory is that the book of Ruth was written by the prophet Samuel and it was possibly “written to endorse David as God’s chosen king for Israel after Saul (Malick).” There are a number of reasons that this authorship has come under debate and confusion due to the continuity issues from previous books in the Old Testament. There is another possible author mentioned for the book of Ruth. If such were the case, the theor