/lit/ - Literature

Morning farewell raft tears deluge of gravity, seagulls chanting in chorus my sorrow, my heart the wind out of steam, dry heat rays from my eyes, sponges bitter, the stars and get stuck in the ground. The rain clouds, silver fish, fall upon my being, and the banks of mirages darkened gray scales to flake in the citadels of boredom and loneliness placid, plunging his eyes into the puddles, these acidic lakes and muddy. In the moat to the still waters of crumbling forts bathing corpses desperate, his back turned to the sky, the only vestige of flesh, faded memories of the valiant struggle.