If I were to burn into a thousand ashes, would the wind carry me astray with one drift. Instead of strolling in the path of containment, would I soar into the clouds of freedom? Would those ashes rise into the soil of holy gardens, or would they simply disintegrate into the atmosphere unremembered, ...
Mother nature is our May in disguise. She gives birth to all of her creations while mortal mothers enjoy the day when they became responsible for another beating soul. May wears the emerald stone precisely around her ring finger on her vibrant left hand to portray to the earth that she has divorced ...
On winter nights the dead walk the iced grasses under the chilled skies. Their immortal breath creates a fog in the petrafied air. The snow freckles fall onto their glistening bone fragments and desintegrate creating a canvas of moistened skin. The follow the warmth steaming off the bodies of their ...
I am from
The land controlled by monarchy
From gondolas in the city relaxed above the water's ripples
From bagpipes and plaid skirts
From diminuitive clans treasuring pots of golden coins
I am from
Wooden planks, vessel formed, that carried determined immigrants to the New World
From diseas...