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IRIS CARVER
the detective.
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JUSTICE SINKS INTO MY RIBS,
CURLING AGAINST MY BEATING HEART.
ORION DEVENAUX
the god of the night.
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NIGHT SPILLS FROM MY FINGERTIPS,
SHADOWS FROM MY SKIN.
YOU ARE READING
LOST GODS | c.s
Fantasy❛ THIS IS NOT YOUR DESTRUCTION, THIS IS YOUR BIRTH.❜ THE MARBLE BREAKS AWAY, AND ICHOR SLIPS THROUGH THE CRACKS. ©TAINTEDSOULS- 2019.
