It is spring, and the night wind is moist with the smell of turned loam and the early flowers; the moon pours out its beauty which you see as beauty finally, warm and offering everything. You have only to take.
Margaret Atwood ╱ Spring Poem.
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deerdusk
Apr 28, 2026 09:49PM
1k on doomsday already wtf?????? this is so crazy, thank you all sooooo much for the support !!!View all Conversations
Story by 𓃖
Doomsday ✷ Original Fic.
Doomsday is close at hand, I'll book the marching band.
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