Dark, brooding storm swirling overhead
clouds, charcoal black looming
dagger piercing eyes in greyest skies
feathers fly in pelting rains
be not afraid, ’tis but
a losing game
poetry & things
Dark, brooding storm swirling overhead
clouds, charcoal black looming
dagger piercing eyes in greyest skies
feathers fly in pelting rains
be not afraid, ’tis but
a losing game