soundly, she sleeps beneath the glinting moon, amidst the changing forms of golden sand-dunes.
Category: dream
Trapped In A Tower | Gothic Poetry
Her sandstone walls were high and mighty. What dark spell could render a place so cold? Who brought upon the curse of eternal winter robbing the spindly trees of green, then gold?
Dreams Once Bright | Poetry
How evocative was each dream of old where memory and vision would raise painted tribute to each fantastical lore as I had imagined in the olden days.
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