In the silence of the night arouse something uncanny, a deformed soul, unworthy of existence we would have hope that the tales of the lost is yet to be told, but we humans are trapped in between the things we can't see and the things that see us.
In the silence of the night arouse something uncanny, a deformed soul, unworthy of existence we would have hope that the tales of the lost is yet to be told, but we humans are trapped in between the things we can't see and the things that see us.
Poems that twine thread around the broken bits of a soul, that fling umbrella lips into beaming buckets and kind of just make you want to say, "life is beautiful, isn't it?" - a totally unbiased revi...