| Monday, July 5, 2010 |
| Hues of Silver Slush.. |
Restful smiles relinquished the pain,
The stories of hills draped in snow and rain
Typhoons marched into the scene,
Awe and mist blended within seem,
To conquer each other in an unrendered blow,
Blinded in wet mist shall never redeem,
The feeling in the Welsh scenery,
Perspiration triggered in anguish,
Yet the scene remains unredeemed as such,
Delving into hues of silver slush,
And she smirked in unreasoned rush,
The wind blew through the weather of lust,
And she smiled in a reasoned mush..
And she smiled in a reasoned mush..
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posted by bereaved vendetta @ 7:57 AM  |
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| A strange medley of what I can give the world of my greatest possession, creative writing. |
| About Me |
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Name: bereaved vendetta
About Me: Optically, subjectively, and figuratively: EQUIVALENT Focal plane....
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