an area of the grove,
untouched,
still rotting,
decorated with death.
decay litters the rotten dirt,
barren of all life.
.
.
.
it will heal with time,
slowly,
surely,
it will heal.
for now,
it is but a remnant,
of the war which blot out the sun.
.
.
.
oh,
how tragic.
among this sea of decay ...
YOU ARE READING
⑄ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠'𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 ⑄
Fantasy[ ᴀᴄᴛ ɪ ] 『 ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴇ, ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ? ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙᴏᴏᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ᄃΉΛӨƧ - ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏꜰ DΣMӨПƧ, ᴏꜰ ΛПGΣᄂƧ, ᴏꜰ ƧΉΛPΣƧΉIFƬΣЯƧ ᴀʟɪᴋᴇ - ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴍꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɴ...
