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The road to where the whereform of why, a god with dragon eyes, a legion of lies in the ocean of space and time. You try, I know, to survive that night, to not die, yet the power found is as low as it is high and has its price. It is as much if not more yours than mine, and here I walk a shadowed blade of a razor line, a shine of a darker kind. One counts ten another nine, the clock crushed, the sky inverted, if I win another day I did just fine.
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The road to where the whereform of why, a god with dragon eyes, a legion of lies in the ocean of space and time. You try, I know, to survive that night, to not die, yet the power found is as low as it is high and has its price. It is as much if not more yours than mine, and here I walk a shadowed blade of a razor line, a shine of a darker kind. One counts ten another nine, the clock crushed, the sky inverted, if I win another day I did just fine.
this is true
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 450 B
It's lean and it's sharp, askance and smoke, the sort of quiet silent way enemy hours fade softly, hard like glass, sweet as sugared silk. Why flutters like butterflies, it's a delicate and colorful thing broadness upon wings a wonder not broken, miles in millions, for no other reason than that there is one.
Somehow.
Somehow.
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