A Riddle to Ruin
On the island I wake up on when I doze off, the air is heavy but the wind blows soft. There are no stairs to heaven as my glow is a little off. Boxed inside a spherical space. Death races to extinguish the life of brain cells in a place where the sound is swift of crashing waves. Where I can't tell Hell from passing days. The moon light burns my skin. Soon to fight my own confusion. In the illusion around me that is mostly sand and water and I feel something on the peak that demands an offer. So I'm scrambling on the island like I'm running out of time and I'm rambling in my mind telling myself that I am fine. Even if it's a lie....
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yazar | MacKenzie T Webel |
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5 Ocak 2017 F Scott Fitzgerald 19,5 x 13,5 cm H. G. Wells 4 Ocak 2017 19,5 x 1 x 13,5 cm 1 x 13,5 x 21 cm 28 Şubat 2018 15,2 x 0,6 x 22,9 cm 15,2 x 0,7 x 22,9 cm G. A. Henty Kolektif 1 Ocak 2017 1 x 13,5 x 19,5 cm B M Bower 3 Ocak 2017 Jack London 1 Ocak 2018
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yazar A Riddle to Ruin | MacKenzie T Webel |
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