Prowl the woodland carpet scape,
hold sword at arms wield,
lights' bloom deceptive as safe,
bland traps sulk near step build,
yet –
even the chalice of hearts,
bend such ever-after apart.
YOU ARE READING
Between an Antidote & a Dreary Phase
PoetryMy second Edition of a variety of Poetry feelings. For all the support and encouragements you all share with me - I do humbly appreciate all that you say and do. The feeling I get when another writer comments, or votes is imperial to how I interr...
