Playground

This is my playground. You join it by alchemy and alchemy only that spurs. Peruse my sights and observations, welcome

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Winged

With a whimsical tune that rhymes with tomorrow, the little bird that never could fly pollutes his purest instincts and dazzles an audience. The roaming thunder of clapping and stomping alike tore asunder the stage and rose to his delight. After this there was nothing that crippled his senses and the jagged corners of his wings sprung out to a full-fledged chamber.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home