dreamdont

And in this dark harvest of season My life has completely lost reason, For which or against to decide. All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide In sadness and in kindness In light and in darkness. In a boat made of hope I shall sail to tomorrow, In a winding hurricane Made of treachery and sorrow. There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear... Piercing, slashing though my head. Starting somewhere in heaven, Ending somewhere in hell. Fighting, burning, crying, crashing. Are the armies within. In my head they are all thrashing. On the heaven's and hell's whim. To be light or to be darkness. A perpetual array. It's not merely my choi

She was only six when the funeral homes started sending us advertisements, all competing with each other to be the best, to win her business. To win our business, more like; six is hardly old enough to understand what's going on. It's not old enough to understand why everyone is covering their mouths with their hands and failing to hold back tears when you walk into the room, or old enough to understand why people begin to outright sob when you start talking about what you want to be when you grow up. Once it was a doctor, before that it was a fairy princess, but right now it's a policewoman. And of course all the children have heard about t