 |
http://zillenium.wordpress.com/
|
 |
There was once a ghost,and hope was once a screaming, living being.There laid a maiden against her grave,and her lover begged on the streetsfor mercy ..
|
 |
They left no bread behind to find their way back home.
|
 |
In the husky breath of the morning air,
leaves make their way from safe haven to bold ground, cold with the promise of
death. As so lightning and th..
|
 |
Through night and day she wept. Sometimes
she could see.
There was nobody there.
No one to blame for nobody would
care.
From time to time s..
|
 |
She sleeps. No dreams could wake her up. Spoken
words got lost halfway.
She’s tired enough not to hear the thunder
shaking the window frame..
|
 |
We’re as simple as the grayish pattern of withered roses. We were full of colors and shameless life. Now there’s nothing left for the sun ..
|
 |
How can we
look at the mirror
and smile when there’s so many eyes
that look at the sky
with no hope,
no believing,
people who see no star..
|
 |
Just a short story I happened to write.
|
 |
His skin was so, so cold against my
own. I could see him struggling to keep his eyes open, cold sweat dripping from
his forehead, teeth clenc..
|
 first  prev 1
|
|
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This