loren-ross-taylorWhisper

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Snowy MountainGentle breeze of crisp delight on a sunny winters noon, / Thawing in the cool sunlight, leaves play their gentle tune. / These shades have eyes,

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534

Perpetually flawedAn analytical perspective reducing problems as time slips away / Losing perspective just in time, to live a little more / Perceived beauty in each narrowed gaze

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435

Slumber tornGhastly shadows of the night, might I bend thy will? / For as slumber falls all around, I can't lay quite still. / As heat does stifle and wind not blow,

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280

EndlessI am death. / A heart beats motionless in my chest, / to sway none but me.

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260

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