and the words slowly started to die with every moment that past oh, so quickly. not even a hint of movement could change the fact that the voice was shriveling up into dust. the throat croaked to be used, making it hard to breathe correctly.
it than suddenly went away, waiting for a different day.
// m.m.
YOU ARE READING
Epodic
PoetryPoetic Rant Book Series - #2 A collection of poetic like sentences and/or small poems. Plus, a few poetically put rants. (lower case intended)
