<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/Spawny_Scribes"><title>Spawny Scribe - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/</link><description>Find anything and everything under one blog. Fiction, poetry, musings on life, and political diatribes. In this category simply because I'm not allowed to put it in all of them!</description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440551" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440548" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440547" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440544" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440551"><title>A Drunkards Holiday </title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440551</link><description>Authors Note: I decided a couple of years ago that I was fed up of the same old routine over Christmas and New Year, and booked a holiday for that period instead. The following is a diary style account of that holiday. Friday 17th December; Last night was a bit of a mad night as completely...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440548"><title>The Reaper</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440548</link><description>Just six years old, and there he lies Alone, beside the road The car slows down, but not for long And then the driver goes She’s twenty-three, and full of life Until she sees the mask And then there’s fear, and nothing more Until she’s free at last He sits at home, awaits the call He knows, one...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440547"><title>The Tunnel of Death</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440547</link><description>They came at dawn to take me From solitary, where I’d been held Four armed guards, unsmiling In my hands my head was held They walked me through the courtyard Beneath the blazing sun, While all around were prisoners Working at the point of a gun They led me to the tunnel From which no-one...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440544"><title>Taken</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Spawny_Scribes/440544</link><description>How come they don't realise? I've been watching them for days now. Following them around. Stalking them. Making notes of every move they make. Waiting for my chance to come, as I know it surely will. It's not time yet, but I sense the time is close. Within the next couple of days, I'm sure my...</description></item></rdf:RDF>