"Under the coverture of night,
in her deep slumber,
she dreamt of the dark.
The kind of darkness which gave her company, when even the shadows would refuse to lark.
Her love for darkness was hazardous. She kept dead flowers near the painted windows.
Her thoughts, a shade even darker.
Boundless, they grew and
defiantly, they flowed."
YOU ARE READING
My Musings
DiversosHere you'll find my deepest, strangest and most random thoughts in form of simple and few words. Happy reading! :)
