This is by my hand,
beaten by my mind,
consumed by the paper.
An unfinished piece of collections;
A treasure box for those moments in which we
Breathed.
Lived.
Remembered.
Cried.
Laughed.
Time can be represented in those things made of only 26 characters.
It is but a crude gift.
Seemingly impersonal, yet more so than can be imagined.
Hopefully you'll enjoy it.
YOU ARE READING
The Mourning Times
RandomThis is a collection of short stories, poetry, and sayings that are particularly meaningless unless you read them. So please do
