The savages, the chiefs
All cowards.
You can’t be rescued.
There is no help for you.
“What about my hunters?”
“Boys armed with sticks”
Feeding a smokeless heart.
The indignity of being spiked on a stick.
The Beast had said.
The powerful voice would remind them
He was the king.
“I’m the reason why it’s no go
“So run away
“Or we shall do you, you see?
“Aren’t you afraid?”
The beast is something you cannot kill.
Close, close, close.
You knew that didn’t you?
The Beast was the impenetrable terror.
He kept one afraid.
He kept one helpless.
He was what kept you human.
Tears of shame run down his face,
It was the infinite cynicism of adult life.
Everything was just bad business.
I had to write something about LOTF. From Chapter 8, I had to use at least 7 colorful passages, one dialogue, a personification and a metaphor.
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In this Memoir of the dead, listen to my rhymes of dread.
Tales be happy, tales be sad, Tales be nice, tales be bad.
Run away if your wish, I assure you, you will not be missed
Tales be happy, tales be sad, Tales be nice, tales be bad.
Run away if your wish, I assure you, you will not be missed