| from_the_precipice | ||
| mourninglight |
a trip to the summit with no end to the journey but the great below red red walls of the cliffs looming up for miles, and the great green of the valley below the mountain smiling in derision. there was flight. there was great speed. and there was impact. shattering..into a thousand infinite pieces; slivers of glass and paint working their ways into the dust of the floor, and the soles and fingertips of reckless passersby how did this tiny porcelain face find herself in a place so high and so inescapable... |
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| ... | ||
| symphonic |
but she left me standing proudly. in my right hand the sages quill, in my left hand the fire sword, on my chest the four elements combined, on my back the death_of_a_rose, in my heart the nightshades garden, on my feet the open wounds on striding through her wreckage. In my head a_thousand_kisses_deep. |
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