Upon the bier as twilights folds, unspoken words.
The mahogany dark and polished reflecting silence
pulsing whispers, cloaked in dead of invisible
threads. With the fragrance of moss. A reminder
that death awaits, for a journey to a different
place. Ending in echoes of stillness. Upon the bier
as twilight folds.
Rated for Teens(13+)
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UncategorizedUpon The Bier
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