Dedicated overall to my grandmother, and the days spent drinking tea and discussing our love of pretty things and getting through life in the short months we had left.
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Do not stare at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
- Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1932.
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Descendants
FantasyThe year is 3406, New Life Calendar. It's been centuries since The Fae Wars, and the Earth is plunged into another era without electricity. Continents were reshaped, countries fell and Empires rose. Faeries have been enslaved and domesticated, used...
