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Autumn GalesAutumn Gales and Panes of Broken GlassAutumn Gales
I stand alone in the unforgiving autumn wind – But I move not from the forceful gale. Covered from neck to feet, my dark and heavy cloak contrasts against the swirling red, gold, and maroon. My hands uncovered and taut with cold – A blue tinge underlined a wilted rose. A single finger caresses the drying thorns, but it pricks and steals a drop of life away onto its twisted stem. The coppery pearl of blood changes shape as it trickles down – The colour of the beauty the rose once possessed. But age has no mercy as it takes the essence and co
by ~fortunecookieC4
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No wonder the hair on the back of my neck has been standing on end recently.
Thanks!
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