Descent

We had perfection, But we let it go, Now all that’s left for us Is a slow descent into hell. By R.L.Sharpe.

The Angel. A poem.

His wings are battered, battered and broken, broken he falls, falls from the sky, the sky that is darkening, darkening like his insides. His insides are shattered, shattered to his heart, his heart is battered, battered and broken, broken like his wings. His wings fail and he falls, falls from the sky, dejected.

A WORD ON WORDS.

I was writing a short story, going along fine, and then I write the word ‘agreeance,’ sure enough, a wiggly red line appears underneath, which puzzled me because I was sure I had spelt it right. So I go on the net to investigate. Turns out I had spelt it right, it just technically isn’t … More A WORD ON WORDS.

Tears.

we may all speak different languages, but pain is universal and tears are spoken by all. (A micro-poem by Rochelle Sharpe.) 

A word on rejection.

Rejection is a part of being a writer. Lots of writers got rejected many times before they got picked up. Becca Fitzpatrick took 5 years to sell her YA angel book Hush Hush, Wither by Lauren Destefano was rejected 120 times before it was picked up, and even Stephen King was rejected. (His book ‘On … More A word on rejection.