At the gates

As black and as ominous as the certain death The chilling touch of bittersweet memories Pushes her further to her grave With this touch the curtains fall and so does her tears. Her sleeping child, Hush now, it has been years. Intersecting paths just like the┬ávines. Hands taken, hearts left behind Dictated by fate, intervention... Continue Reading →

Website Powered by

Up ↑