Let the cold damped air
Travel through my pale skin.
The flow of the tranquil river
Has sunk into the deepest ocean
Where molested souls are in stagnation,
And where stillness reigns.
YOU ARE READING
| march and phantom.
PoetryHe is the corpse of my existential avenue, creeping towards a clandestine affair.
Stillness Reigns
Let the cold damped air
Travel through my pale skin.
The flow of the tranquil river
Has sunk into the deepest ocean
Where molested souls are in stagnation,
And where stillness reigns.
