Shambles and Rubbish

And so the words mount, leading me wayward//In a room where the doors are all shut//Shambles and rubbish - thoughts to discover//Distant memories that have somehow come undone...

Accompaniment

Waking up alone...   Much like the sound of early-rising finches without the distant buffet of street noise The smell of morning dew without the sweetness of a freshly-cut lawn The rise and fall of a chest without saying anything at all   And yet...   The melancholic pang of heartstrings plucked without   Accompaniment.

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tales told different

"I saw the Angel in the marble, And I carved till I set him free." Every story has an impact, each tale matters

Jo Writes Fantasy

Born in Poland | Living in Texas Now | Hype

Way Too Fantasy

Speculative fiction book reviews and more!

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Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.

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