Thursday, 10 September 2020

Winter Sleep

 Sometimes it's hard to pour a drop
Just as it can be hard to write a dot...
IN a book without pages,
Like a summertime without the sun - 

A sky without stars...

I can feel it,
When the ink is dry at the core of my soul,
When he canvas is blank, 
And there is no pen at hand,
NO brush,
NO breath - 
NO driving strength.

AN empty cave - that's all.

Take a deep breath, let the rain quench the deserts behind the eyes.
It will happen.
The mountain wall will move-
It will happen.

And you will sing again, as hasty as sparrows nest - 
On the eve if spring.

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My Games

Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

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