Surviving in a holy mess she fathomed, the storm inside her. Grateful, she was of the darkness who created a chaotic perfection inside a devilish beauty. She feared the wolves, yet, it was the one who ignited the forest fire inside a tranquil essence. When the sun dived into the beguiling sky the dusky nights arrived beholding the truth of her low spirits. And, into the darkness she went, a world of which she dreamt.
Tousling the opulence was not modesty. Who will adore the clan? I am not yet ‘me’, the refuge of elevated moon. The heat and dust of nascent money was burning like a loud prayer in dark sun. Perfection tends to
Thou darkness, you are one, the only one in this world, never did change your color, nor did you hate or devoid of your black, the thick darkness, you like it and carry on as your own, with no dislikes,
And there is the night. Darkness in full bloom. Creatures lurking, looking for food. That is the night, the real fright. The solem wisp of the ever ending fear of nothing, Yet everything. There is the night, the dark, The
When I look back the silent darkness I had left in the deep woods a long ago where I had planted few seeds of my memories to grow but I found those seeds grown with thorns of exasperation and annoyance