Apr 2014
A grid, a blank canvas, a blank man.
There, out on the grey moor, under a darkening sky,
Welcoming the fog, and the
Growing disquiet that howls in the distance,
Circling.
There, out on the grey moor, under a darkening sky,
Welcoming the fog, and the
Growing disquiet that howls in the distance,
Circling.
