the abyss gazes back
(repression)
Photo by Steinar Engeland on Unsplash
breath frigid, stillborn;
beyond the tattered veil a
face like yours, but not.
About the Creator
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More stories from Raistlin Allen and writers in Poets and other communities.
Winterthorne
Winterthorne stood alone at the edge of the park. The beautiful snow that had surrounded him was all trampled now, from the feet of all of the children who had built him. He missed the sparkly clean snow blanket, but he was happy that so many children had come out to make him.
By Laura DePace3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Oooh, this gave me chills. Congratulations on your win, Raistlin!👏
Wooohooooo congratulations on your win! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊