Darkness like a comforting blanket wrapping its arms snugly around me, a cool breeze wisping, willowing between my fingers. The night has its flows in a rhythm pulsating along a trail ministering sweet sounds of healing. It's own music it's own voice loud enough to not understand quiet enough to be deafening. Fleeting...the Sun washes it away.
The Jovan Belcher Tragedy
11 years ago
2 comments:
WHAT?!? hehe
I like your usage of palindromes...not that this is really a palindrome, but I get you. Okay...not really!
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