Walking at midnight in a garden of red roses
Revealing dark beauty, no longer confined...
An old box sits on her shelf covered in dust...
She wipes it off and opens it up with tears in her...
~ The Looking Glass ~
An observation of the following painting...
Sitting at the dinner table, they ask you about...
You start complaining on and on how nothing goes...
She walks across a garden full of snow,
In this garden, wild roses grow...
Scatters from the winds of change
Among debris life rearranged...
The way u look at moonlight
look..the moon, mother of the night, mother of a...