Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

"Musing"

Now, through the fog of the mind's eye
I see monoliths and mountain crypts
appear and disappear in a Stygian sky;
ghosts of song and dream, tales of past
thread my sorrow; death-pale, yet hopeful
somehow..
 

◄ "The Old Raven"

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message