dust
By tristessa
she stands weary and silent in the coldest moonlit eve the lunar glow sadly bathing on the palest of dusky petals, skin, draped over jutting bone crying tears of glimmered pearls in a world made out of floating dust and seas of angel's sweetest grief with pair of broken wings her father made for her dreaming of her once upon a timeme... romanticized Written March 8th, 2002 © on Mar 08 2002 11:07 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"she stands weary and silent..."