Sunday, November 13, 2016

"The Hollowed"

#0089. Little screaming from wherever you are. Those dying breaths still hollow out your bones. You could never believe in such fancy endings. You know about the worms. You know about the dust and the ash. Don't give it a coat of fresh lacquer. It is what all things are. It is wretched. It is polluted. Bear up that grim menace. Forget those rose covered books.

No comments:

Post a Comment