There is a house which is darker than an autumn night and far deeper than an ocean's black waves. There is a room in this house to which there is a castle and within the castle there are walls which house even more doors. Beyond those doors is an emptiness and a sadness yet an inexplicable, unexplainable, indeterminable patience knowing full well it shall be open once more. That wise words are only stationary be fitments of infinitesimally short lives and that no matter what light one thought they had, darkness ruled in it's stead long before, waiting for it all along.
5 years ago
05 Sep 2013 01:13 CEST
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