Tread on my soul, shall I fall?
Like those who have fallen before,
Or like those who shall fall again.
Be not but soft and tender and light,
for that is not the way of pain
I shall be wronged and not be right,
Though I will grow right ever more
More than any soul that falls.
Dusk - In this dusk I wish to be the breeze drifting through fragrant gardens, past crickets and frogs, faeries and mushrooms, through mossy ferns and pine tr...
1 week ago