malcolmdrakonis
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Summary
All around him, life blooms, impossibly loud, singing.
Every night, Death bloomed just as much. It had to. Wherever anything begins, lies an ending.
And in the evergreen garden, the ever flowing current, life goes on.
When the night comes, he’d build a pyre; he’d let all the lives be taken again.
And pray.
Somehow, he’s sure that somewhere, someone is listening.
Series
- Part 1 of String of fate
Recent series
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- Words:
- 42,400
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 18