Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
“I’m going to the Celestine,” Lena remarked with a touch of a smile; uncertain if the child was following, wandering, or a little bit of both. She had ample amounts of tasks within the gardens at all hours, including placing the newest recording of the bird within her journals for safekeeping and future correspondence. “It’s feeding time for many of the animals.”
Winding her way through stones and forest though, her head tilted vaguely at the young demigod, brow arching as the inquiry seemed to cease entirely. Maybe a little nudge, for curiosity’s sake, uncertain about the particulars in question. “Why am I…?”
Winding her way through stones and forest though, her head tilted vaguely at the young demigod, brow arching as the inquiry seemed to cease entirely. Maybe a little nudge, for curiosity’s sake, uncertain about the particulars in question. “Why am I…?”
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
