Her eyes are still,
Amidst the chaos,
Of swirling, cycling, screaming gales,
Ripping dying leaves from,
Breaking boughs,
Till they tumble,
As they always would have,
But before their time.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
Her eyes are still,
Amidst the chaos,
Of swirling, cycling, screaming gales,
Ripping dying leaves from,
Breaking boughs,
Till they tumble,
As they always would have,
But before their time.
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