

The Painted BrideA tear born in the eye, dies on the lips. Silhouettes dance on the lucid ceiling, Grey laughing shadows echoing in a silver room, Making a song that The Bride cannot sing. She is alone. Her dress lay like a cloud upon the sky, Endless untouched beauty in white ripples and infinite curves, Spilling onto the dark empty floor, melting into a blank canvas. Each warm memory gave turn to each warm tear.The Painted Bride
A tear born in the eye, lives on the cheek. A dress so white, ready for colour. A day so black, ready to end.
How did this happen? Two strangers alone with t
Shiny
--
[link] Get Firefox!
[link] My Gallery
--
The best things in life are second chances.
My Portfolio
--
Thanks so much for the faves. I really appreciate it.
--
Laura
--
-Homo Sapiens Non Urinat Inventum-
--
Blakey > Perth, Western Australia
Previous Page1234Next Page