WonderLand: revisited
I'm lost and wreckless, like Alice
I'm the rabbit, always late
I stay high like the hookah puffing caterpillar
I'm the queen of rage and hate
A rare grin forms
Though, mischievous, like the cat
Both disappear before your eyes
No sense of where they're at
Off with my head?
Such mercy, As It's full of pain & sadness
Please gift it to the man
Who too is known for madness
Though, perhaps he's owed some credit
He's infinitely more sane than me
And recognized that a head void of wonder..
Could at least be filled with tea
About the Creator
Lisa marple
Anyo
I am depth. I am emotion & thought. I am nuance and idiosyncrasies inside of, or rather comprised of, an unimaginably huge number of atoms. I'm the same thing that you are, only arranged differently.
.
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Field of the Fallen
Sunlight danced softly across the frost-crusted fields, making the little blades of grass sparkle like emeralds. The faraway chirrup of a songbird was the only disruption to the quiet of the morning. An icy chill, the last vestige of the dying winter, clung to the air, settling in a thick white mist at the far side of the open field. The heavy stench of decay hung in that mist, punctuation by the sharp tang of freshly spilled blood.
By A. J. Schoenfeld7 days ago in Fiction
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