Running through the forest a rush of color beneath a canopy of darkness pale-grey eyes searching, always searching for that fairie tale of dreams
jelous thorns reach out in greeting piercing once flawless skin agony mingles with hate and in weakening she falls drenched in crimson dreams
the song of a hundered butterflies that clear, comforting sound rings out above the clamour of unforgiving pain lending silver wings to a lost, forgotten soul
wow, i really like it...
lynsae4 · Sun Oct 23, 2005 @ 03:42am · 0 Comments |