Читать книгу She Planted Her Own Flowers - Kathlene Suzan Sharpe - Страница 11

A dulcet disposition ravaged with eccentricity,

you’ll shiver and bleed in this altered reality.

Take my hand into a world I know,

beautiful and blinding, she’s the quiet before the storm.

Ghosts and goblins that crawl along the walls,

twisting and turning down unwelcoming halls.

Demons in a darkness only I can see.

winter trees gently sway in the breeze,

The shadows that once swallowed me whole,

forgotten in a world of bitter and cold.

So peaceful on the surface, I dare not disturb it.

In the misty mornings of a sleepy town,

silently walking into each and every crowd,

mine is the voice they couldn’t drown.