"And another part of your soul is placed in ink.
Yet you fight again to stand
With dreams of fullfillment and love and trust,
Yet part of you always wonders...
Always questions."
Yet you fight again to stand
With dreams of fullfillment and love and trust,
Yet part of you always wonders...
Always questions."
Raven arrives with a hubris of black feathers
and a pestilence of petticoats.
She is the colour of night.
She is the stuff of cobwebs.
Her words are of the pulse
and the heart beat.
She tastes of chrome.
.
.
.
speak tothe dark angels
She is the colour of night.
She is the stuff of cobwebs.
Her words are of the pulse
and the heart beat.
She tastes of chrome.
.
.
.
speak tothe dark angels
2 comments:
lovely words,and photograph.
Great imagery. I felt it.
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