GEROMBOLAN PERI
Ku merangkai kata-kata, Di dalamnya. Namun entah mengapa, Terasa Niskala.
poetry by a person that's afraid of people. 12/23/15- #1 in poetry
it was at that time of ruin, that the stars rose from their graves. skytaints | all rights reserved ©
When the cloak came off, the nakedness beneath it was colored a warm, dark umber color. Something he had never seen before. The shade was one of a kind, like the sun had made love with the melanin that filled her skin like it was her first love. The runes that covered her were light, like they had been etched into her...
we are heroes of darkness wearing armour of gold © all rights reserved to atlas | 2017
The Alchemist had to learn how to love himself, to not let himself bleed since Persephone left. So this is how he bleeds, through ink.