• _the_mourning_sage_ 5w


    A voice like lingering snow,
    Stimulating thoughts like a drunken doe,
    Merry in its unabridged flow
    Sneaky, for sorrow behind masks it did stow.

    Better, then it did not know
    Expecting a harvest of what it had sowed
    Blindsided it was by what life had in store
    Crafting a tale of sorrow, that dwarfed all lore.