The courtyard
It's waiting
With ivy like strands of corpse's hair
And rivers as still as death
No ripple from underneath the brambles
Nor any whisper from above the canopy
The courtyard
It's silent
Awaiting your footsteps upon
The crumbling stonework
Leading you to the catalyst of your
Demise.
YOU ARE READING
The Crooked Don't Repent (NEW)
FantasyA novel preface and prologue. Coming soon; please wait patiently.
