August 22, 2011
Around the dancing silhouettes of the paper-esque flames that glow from the embers, the ghost stories and old wives tales intertwine themselves into the ghastly smoke, spelling out generations of undivided paranoia and sighed lullabies that all, at one point, brimmed the heart with unearthly splendor, tragic enchantments. And through the shadows of fairytale figures I no longer remember the names of, I see a small child’s laughing face, the smile split open with unparalleled joy, incomparable happiness.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback