Search for a command to run...
Random drabbles, heartfelt rambles, and the occasional splash of chaos from a teen with too many thoughts and not enough time.
Glinting slashes of white bone,
Velvet dark of the unknown.
An agile pounce, a booming roar,
Blood seeps into the undergrowth.
Blood-soaked earth
the ichor of life
Apollo’s wrath, muffled by storm.
A shadow dispersed,
A silence born.
No comments yet. Be the first to comment.
A week ago, stumbling about forlornly within the deepest abysses of summer-vacation-induced monotony, I found my battered old copy of Ian Shaw's 'The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt'. Thus was born
The many divots and indents upon its body of glass twinkle like the stained windows of a cathedral at night, devoid of colour. Stains that smell like the twinkling of an old piano in a dusty library. A smell that coats the hollows of your bones, like...
A (very) short poem without the letter 'e'
Sometimes, falling asleep feels like tumbling down a tall, hollow building—the only light streaming in through tiny rows of windows at each floor that flash by you. And each flash of light is accompanied by a thudding boom that hollows your bones, a ...