p_Murr_b
where do you go when the path you wish to take is drowned by blackwater, what do you pick when the rose you desire is tangled in thorns, when do you tell the time when the clocks have all stopped, why do you wish to marry the man at the alter with a mannequin with a spiderweb veil?
how do you go on marching, a platoon in each step, to a battleground long abandoned, when you know the ghosts that haunt the very soil on which you step will overcome you and win.
a short story told through vignettes and poems.