The Moth and the Spiderweb

Once upon a midnight moon A moth flew alone To a spider's web with pale threads Contrasting with the stone Swinging, Swaying Hanging in the moonlight   The moth was sad, her fragile state Left tears upon her fur She wished...

Black And White And Dead All Over

Thinking about him left me with the same empty, hollowness that you somehow undoubtly always feel after a good book. The feeling was unavoidable and draining. I just want to take a long hiatus from reality to contemplate the novel and the beautiful...