My soul spills out - black ink on paper...
Black Ink On Paper
Escaping Dissolution
Trembling with the length of each sentence//Meaninglessly desperate to delay its end...
A Fallen Ambassade
The pen rests on the page - a fallen ambassade...
Willow-Like
We flow, blurring the fading wike between writer and write
Crack in the Wall
That night, as I laid bed, stories running through my mind, with a groan and creak, I lifted my head, then I understood, and I cried
December Rose 