Upon my demise, I ask that you place baby's breaths on my grave with each advent of December. For this delicate bloom, with its ethereal countenance serves as an emblematic embodiment of the evanescent essence that is youth. I recall vividly the month wherein the cruel hands of time wrested away the innocence and exuberance that defined my youthful existence. In this solemn entombment, let the baby's breaths bear witness to the transient nature of youth, and let their presence serve as an immutable testament to the profound impact it hath wrought upon my mortal journey.
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Agony-Fueled Art
PoetryA Collection. "Agony-Fueled Art" is a collection that encompasses a diverse compilation of satirical, non-sensical, provocative, audacious, and, at times, serious and reflective works. Within its pages, you will encounter a myriad of thought-provo...
