As night birds call softly to the sky cicadas and crickets noisily singing as the golden hour slowly drifts by.
perched upon gray branches in leafless trees blackbirds rest on their journey to nowhere an icy red wine sky leaps into our mind
A great inhale lights the pipe wait for a reddish moon to rise ballerinas twirl on the sea wall faces expressionless; eyes cold.
I'm here, always here, and he's there, staring,always glaring, forever daring me to move.But no, no, no, I won't, I cannot.. I have neither
As the demons and hunger invoked sincere repentance for thieving loaves of bread. Whilst all distressed lives calmly exhaled their last before the hot ovens inhaled the dead.