The fullness was gone,
it dripped to a mere crescent.
Others stopped looking at it in awe,
but the moon was still special
to me.
YOU ARE READING
Gentle Screams and Glass Figurines
Poetry"Nothing can protect us from the human screams, as the fire of anarchy intoxicates our once innocent minds." ~~~~~~ A collection of poems about life, death, and everything in between. Dark, deep, and horror poetry intended to make you think abou...
