The night unfolded into a velvet cloak, stultifying the common daylight activity, and entrancing all of the beings of this sylvan solace. Tranquility.
Orchids rose from the river of ash, chromatic petals glistening in the blood moon. Eloquence.
Tendrils of flame kiss the virgin lips of the woodland, razing this sacred place of repose. Destruction.
Alucard of Wormwood · Fri Jun 19, 2009 @ 06:36pm · 0 Comments |