My soul is attached to the place of nothingness. It is devoid of life and death. It is where my mind departs to when the marrows of poetry devour my existence.
- website: mooncohem.blogspot.com
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Stories by Ellynfe
| october.
How can I let your voice slump into oblivion if it resembles the sound of the rustling leaves?
| march and phantom.
He is the corpse of my existential avenue, creeping towards a clandestine affair.
| natsukashii.
They have diffused away his ingenious thoughts, and to justify is to become a seeker.