The silhouettes of night.
They are my only friends.
The dark raven wings of eternity.
They speak to me by candle light.
A foreign heart.
Or a wingless bird of grace.
A deep lament.
Or a cold lonely place.
Captured by dusky essence.
Captivated by unseen love.
Shadows are all I need.
Shadows that always bleed.
The night that sets us free.
by Sir Markus Furiae.
No comments:
Post a Comment