Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
“Oh. Different every time?” Ignorance of the Labyrinth struck her, as the world seemed tediously more difficult. Frowning slightly, she permitted her eyes to commit the imagery to memory instead then, wondering why anyone had bothered with a map in the first place. “Interesting.” For it was, and she wouldn’t discredit a world that had somehow managed to overrun the earth with its abilities to twist and change, distort and unravel.
She followed along, ensuring everything was still safely tucked within her basket. “Thank you. I just think…after the war…” she shrugged, uncertain how to parse together the thoughts. “We need all kinds of ways to mend.”
She followed along, ensuring everything was still safely tucked within her basket. “Thank you. I just think…after the war…” she shrugged, uncertain how to parse together the thoughts. “We need all kinds of ways to mend.”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
