In this graveyard of memories, I wander, cloaked in the twilight
of November. The breeding stones of my mind held within. My
bones, threadbare of the moth’s wings. Now a silhouette falling
from the grave. Walking the shadows in an orchard of headstones
haunting the apple that fell from a tree, in this graveyard of
memories.
Rated for Everyone
My Mind Held Within
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hello dearest Adagio this is very dark indeed and beautifully written ❤️
Thank you, Brenda.
Powerfully penned, Adagio. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you, Damian.
Your article helped me a lot, is there any more related content? Thanks!