There used to be a story told only at night, usually shared by the dim fire light.
In my dying moment I think of this book and how it affected all the choices I took.
I remember the words my father would say, he told me the monsters won't get me today.
As I think of this fable my muscles go taut and I realize the demons aren't the demons I thought.
I ponder the tales I grew up with and I see that the stories seem more than just myth.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoetryStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
