Jade_Riven
- Reads 361
- Votes 72
- Parts 19
Here in the wandering woods, you have no self.
It's you and the trees
Swaying to a melody playing in the wind.
Here in The Wandering Words, you have no hope.
It's just you and the
UNDEAD
Limping along an unknown path
- Found in a diary on the road.
[The tale of a twelve year old girl, who escapes death with her two four year old friends.]
[Poetry]