She's walking down the road to her home, the darkness of the night making her one with it. She's walking slowly, thinking about everything, especially of the chaotic disaster ahead. The darkness is her friend, she can hear the faint howls of wolves, and the gravel crunching underneath her. The moon illuminates her tear-streaked face, and the dripping blade in her right hand. She stops, and drops to her knees; takes a look at her artwork and asks God to forgive her and take her. But it never works, she cleans the mess and puts on her ambiguous act.
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Love // Thought
PoetryPoems about unrequited love, melancholia, and thoughts day-to-day (Updated randomly)
