Finding Redemption 7 : A Poetry.
2 Jul 2019 1 minute read 0 comments Botefarm
Slit the wrist, blood starts to flow Closing in on them, there humming groan A chant, spell, curse runs through my bones Came, held me tight, fire in my bones. ... ... Whispers so deep, far from sleep Son, you've done with the vrill Now, red...