# data[].attributes.body
A raven is sitting in the dark somewhere waiting for its life to fade away. Fade away by the wind, with the sound of it howling. Howling like an old song, it used to know and care about. With powerful strokes of the wings, it flies away into the darkness, into another world. A world of sorrow and regrets surrounded by walls of fire.

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Like a dark silence raven he sits still and watches every move a person makes.

He's emotions are hidden away, so no one knows.

The dark secrets that is berried deep within, are things only the devil knows.

A mystery is what he is.

A mystery no one will ever solve.

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The spider is sitting in its spider web, it's looking for the next prey. It stands still in the same position for many hours. It has it's own little hiding spot. This is the spiders everyday job. You may think is very boring, but the spider thinks it is prestigious to just sit still and wait. When it waits it looks a bit strange, still like a spider with long legs, but deeply mysterious in its night sky black uniform.

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She could tell something would happen..

But when was the real question.

Sitting patiently whilst her city was being destoried.

But when was the real question.

How long they had been there and how long ‘til they could leave.

But when was the real question.

The London had been there for a while, but how long would it stay.

Now, soon, or never, she may never know.

# data[].attributes.body
A man is siting on his couch, waiting for love.

He is a spider and looks all lonely and grumpy.

His room is all dark and scary.

He is stock.

Nobody wants to visit him.

Nobody wants to see him.

If he just could get out and if somebody just would please him.

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Little mole lost in the Budapest darkness, overwhelmed with the big  escandalous opera echo sound,  living the humidity and the corpse of the last minute during the big crowded night.

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She's like dirty snow, greyish white, as if she was in the gloomy Danish winter. She has been covered in snow, from top to toe. But she is not cold, her soft blanket keeps her warm, and her high collar keeps it that way. The people in the tunnel stare her down, like she's a picture at a museum. As if she did something wrong. She sits in the shame corner. She's the woman sitting in the corner underground.

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This is a lonely man, with carpets and dark surroundings.

He owns it all, because he´s standing tall, with money overall.

He has dark thoughs, and a secret he can not share.

But no one really knows  or care.

He´s an animal, a traitor.

He has done terrible things.

He regret, but now people want his head.

He is a pig, treaten like a dog.

Surrounded by the lonely fog

The silence remains in the room.

He should have been the groom.

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He is seated in his new cleaned suit in the sofa thinking about his plan. The room is totally quiet and he is staring into the air without saying a word. A spider crawls over his arm and stops in the middle of is face, but he doesnt move. His mind exclude everything else but his own thoughts and the only thing that will make him move is the black raven, thats his signal.

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As a fish he is sitting in his sofa

Drawn up from the sea, enforced and uncomfortably

As an opera that has not begun his face has no expression

Silent but expected to turn aggressive

He should be put back in water

He should be kept behind bars

As the murderer he is

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Spider sitting underground, cold sewers and long tunnels surrounding her web. Flies marching, blinded by the darkness walking into her net. Sound of sewage water dripping from the ceiling. Ice walls as far the eye reaches. Smell of death.

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The mysterious man seated on his throne like a lion staring its prey in the eye.

Something isn’t right.

The mysterious man seated on his throne like an octopus, unable to keep a form.

Something isn’t right.

The “man” seated. His intent unknown. Sitting in his box. His form ever shifting like a chameleon.

Something isn´t right.        Just observing. Watching. Like a hunter stalking his prey.
Something isn’t right          he´s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Something isn´t right

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boss of the firm with a bulldog attitude.

a shark among the top predators of the industry.

but yet a small trout

his personal life ain't loud

he is living in his own cloud

he is trying to come out

but he is not allowed.

# data[].attributes.body
This is a lonely man, with carpets and dark surroundings.

He owns it all, because he´s standing tall, with money overall.

He has dark thoughs, and a secret he can not share.

But no one really knows  or care.

He´s an animal, a traitor.

He has done terrible things.

He regret, but now people want his head.

He is a pig, treaten like a dog.

Surrounded by the lonely fog

The silence remains in the room.

He should have been the groom.

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With in the big humid sewers of London lays not one not two but countless numbers of cockroaches, with nothing too do and forever in the shadows. Laying in layers, one as disgusting and irrelevant as the other. just laying there in big piles of crawling dust that will forever be forgotten and unspoken of. There will never be spoken of the ones in the sewers as a pleasure.

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https://padlet.com/drthmadsen/d116fdhq0yrn

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He sits in the faded dark.

There is no more music in his life.

His mind has become nothing but the blur.

He’s living alone.

No one near.

Nothing but the fear.

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A sophisticated but sly man sitting on his couch - just like a snake. He keeps an eye on every movement, ready to attack its prey.

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Never feeling alone

Hiding in the underground

I need some controll

Of the people in my background

Scared of looking back

My past is a thread

Soon it will attack

I already feel dead

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The snake rolls himself together in his comfy corner. He thinks of what he had done, not many hours ago. He killed it. But he had to do it, if he hadn't have done it, he would have starved to death. But did the mouse deserve it? The snake did not know. But now the snake kind of thought of the mouse life. Did it have a family and if he had, would they miss him? Even though the snake had killed many mice before and had never felt sorry about it. But this exact mouse had made him feel guilty about it. But why?

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The woman seated in the underground

Destined to sit there for eternity

Doomed like the thousands around her

Trapped like a bird without wings

Yearning for freedom, but not allowed to feel the fresh air

The air down here is suffocating

The cloth slowly wrapping around her body

And soon also her soul.

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The underground is dark,

You can't see or feel anything,

You only hear the sorrows, of unexplained things,

Thinking to yourself for hours,

About your long forgotten wings,

The crow in your heart is always there,

In this dark and depressing place.

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He is a jellyfish

Floating in the ocean

Absorbing the darkness

Always alone with nothing to follow

Moving with flexibility

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Down to earth and yet divine

breaking hearts everyday since nine

you’ve said the same words a thousand times

but I know everything was i lie

why do you pull me closer

then ask me for space

I don't know where to go

now that I’m in the friendzone.

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there she sits, on the corner of the dirty underground. nothing left to do, other than give up. Never going to be more than a filthy rat in the slum. Just at frozen mommie, with no will or courage to move.
waiting in line for death, just an empty vase, with no forfilling flowers.

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A lizard sits affected looking at the world

Darkness sourrounds his slim long body

Every second

Ready to flee

And never come back

Head filled with his own jazz music

Swiching from song to song

Captured by the rhythm