The souls of Dryad sleep no more,
The hands of Dryad caress no more
Now that the Phoenix flies and the earth burns.
They are traveling far, weapons in hand.
Of those who destroyed the realms where the ancient owls once roamed.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Sweet Spirit
At night, the stairs of this old house creaks Whispering to me, sweet spirit sleeping soundly during the night. The shadow movements, the ...
-
Every summer he would send her letters. Evelyn was thrilled when they arrived. The anticipation of receiving them after the long winter woul...
-
He told me I would always remind him of autumn. The way the leaves turned, the line between decaying leaves and cool breezes, the way the fo...
-
At night, the stairs of this old house creaks Whispering to me, sweet spirit sleeping soundly during the night. The shadow movements, the ...
No comments:
Post a Comment