Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
- John Donne , Death be not proud.
YOU ARE READING
Witching Hour 1 : The Blightford Witch
ParanormalDawn Hathaway is a troubled teenager with a dark past and the ability to talk to the dead and control the dead. Moving back to her eerie Massachusetts town of Blightford, Dawn is entangled into the town's dark secrets after an attack from an Appar...