Not until the days when I truly have gone away. Like a dried date stalk rending until time ceases to win. It picks up the fruit from its tender branches during the harvest season.
Such a trembling nightmare, where panic and horror reveals a flicker and illuminates my dark mind. Painful glares deflecting off the cloudy surface. Shady figures looming over my foggy vision.
Grimy walls left lurid marks as obscure as nightfall. Somber whispers that are lightless and opaque. Smiles that are overcast with an indistinct curve.
Vague expressions lit the room with a tense heartache. In dirt and soot she stands by. Darkened by the misty view. She looks into the frosty window, wishing the present season would last another lifetime.
Mystery
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I love the detailed descriptions! Maybe you can work on extending this scene, and make this a story! 😀 I like your writing style. This would be a good intro.