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| Hidden Talent | Started by: CamachoDesperado on Aug 28, '08 01:53 |
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Camacho sits in on a bench outside the bar he once visited. The same bar he entered the night he first came into the Mafioso world. On the bench, he sits anxiously. Waiting. Staring into the sky. And in this idle state, he clenches a piece of paper in his right hand. Rain started to pour as he snaps back to reality from the trance he was into. He walks off and tosses the piece of paper into the trash, and walks off into the streets once again. The paper never fell into the bin. A passerby notices the paper. It wasn't fully crumpled, but it was obviously wet. The passerby read what was in it. these days, the sun seems to be shining towards the wrong direction with all the pain i feel, i need divine intervention if the great one above grants you one wish will all of it be able to carry your anguish? the sun is all that shines upon life on the world but all that i need is you, girl after everything iv'e done, i am put down and buried alive my heart is taken, and stabbed with a thousand knives if ever i live to tell the story of the girl who killed my heart, i am grateful but if all else fails me, all they will ever see is the knife that is left dull the knife that has been driven through my shallow heart the heart that has fallen for you from the start from this moment on, i am bound to a life of suffering oblivion, death and pain is all i will be feeling in this doomed dimension we call life, i am a martyr a martyr of love, for the one girl, the one i consider my love i am left to burn my own wings off and crawl forever living this life is such an endeavor this is truth, this is love, this is war to see her smile, nevermore, nevermore The man who kills, also creates. Camacho, is also, a poet. |
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Yuri applauded Camacho's poetry. He didn't understand a word of it, but it had to have been good, right? Right? After all, the passerby felt the burning desire to share it with the world. He decided to hunt down this wondrous poet. It was coming up on two in the morning in Chicago when he arrived by plane, but it may as well been the early evening. Yuri immediately caught a taxi to CamachoDesperado's home and knocked firmly on its front door until there was a response. When the door swung open, Yuri presented Camacho with the crumpled paper. You write great poem! He smiled widely, clearly unaware of what time it was. My turn now! Yuri too was a man of hidden talents. He felt that this was the most appropriate time and place to celebrate them. He withdrew a harmonica from his pocket and began to blast out a tune that was only vaguely recognizable as "I'm a Little Teapot," taking a break to add enthusiastic "Hey!"s every few bars. Finally, he finished and replaced the instrument. OK! We start band! I call you! He patted Camacho on the shoulder heavily and headed back to the airport. |
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| Reply by: Yuri_Kazakov at Aug 28, '08 02:45 | |
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| The dawn time meeting camacho just had opened up new doors for his new found talent. Although the harmonica playing foreigner did'nt understand a word he wrote, he couldn't thank him enough. | |
| Reply by: CamachoDesperado at Aug 28, '08 05:02 | |
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*News spread of Camacho's new hidden talent with the back alley words like 'loss' and 'anguish' and 'love'. In the Blindhorse Saloon, SMITH reads a news article about the Fallen Warrior and how the foreigner caught Camacho's attention. Finishing his drink, he got up to leave, firmly tucking the paper underneath his arm. Looking up, Camacho, looking full of a new life, with the foreigner at his side, entered the saloon. Knowing it was not my place to ask, I couldn't resist* Please Camacho. Tell me the meaning of this hidden talent of yours and what great things you desire to accomplish with it. |
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| Reply by: SMITH-X at Aug 28, '08 12:52 | |
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| Why, it means that I can put words together with such beauty and grace. It's all an art. I plan to take it into the business. and write in the mafioso flavor. you think it would work? | |
| Reply by: CamachoDesperado at Sep 01, '08 07:42 | |
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