I'm 5,8 bout 150lb, have long red hair, multi colored eye's , have 3 tats , long sharp finger nails , I am cold and brutal to those who cross my family or my freinds. I love playing in cemeteries at night, also go there to think.I have Irish and Native American blood running through my veins.I am no longer going to school for motorcycle repair. I am finished...(YES). also desided to go back to school and get my GED.I am a Pagan High Priest (BRUJO) and have been for 7 years now.I Used to practice dark majic but im trying not to anymore. I am owned (Angitia) but not yet collard. Yes you are reading this right,I am a slave.This a poem i wrote after My girl friend was killed by a drunk driver.A Love Like MineOn the white throat of the useless passion that scorched my soul with its burning breath. I clutched my fingers in a murderous fashion and gathered them close in a grip of death. For why should I fan, or feed with fuel a love that showed but blank despair. So my hold was firm and my grasp was cruel. I aimed to strangle it then and there. I thought it was dead, but with no warning it rose from its grave last night and stood by my bed till dawn, over and over it spoke my name, its throat was red where my hand had been. It burned my brow with its scorching breath, and it said the moment my eyes took hold of it. “A love like this can know no death.” For just one kiss that your lips have given in the last and beautiful past to me, I would gladly barter my hopes of heaven and all the bliss of eternity. Forever joys are the angels keeping to lay at my feet in paradise. Like that into your love lit eyes. I know in the way that sins are reckoned, this thought is a sin of the deepest die, but I know to if an angel beckoned standing close to the throne on high and you down by the gates infernal should open your loving eyes and smile. I would turn my back on the unknown to lie on your breast a little while. To know for an hour you were mine completely mine in body and soul. I would bear unending torture sweetly with not a murmur and not a moan. A lighter sin or a lesser error. A light change through hope or fear divine, but there is no fear and hell has no terror that could change or alter a love like mine.by Chentanie (ws) 10-31-99PLEASE DO NOT STEAL THIS POEM.