She is made of ravens and wolves. She moves like midnight. Stumbling in her dark, I feel the hot breath of mortality against my cheek.
Warrior, the Shades can torture only those who acquiesce. Do not look back, for Love will follow you from Hell if you endure. ©2017 I.O.
WARNING: This is a very sensitive, even volatile, subject. If you want to respond, please do so when your rational mind is engaged. Step away,
I traced your inked skin with my fingers, studied the history of your hell, plucked the piercings that recreated your pain, that displayed your
One time, I thought I was clinically depressed and my mother cajoled me into driving an hour to her house. I hadn’t showered for several
I dreamed your blood-stained flesh, a wound of Promethean Shame. The scythe of Janus haunted your days. Dressed only in the skin granted by the