The wind rose to a storm. Rain drummed on his armour, soaking the clothes underneath. His eyes were heavy, and his body sluggish, as they walked on the paved dark, street. They had been up for many hours that night. They had trained for…
The floor was cold as I awoke. My jaw was sore and my body was stiff, and when I opened my eyes, I couldn’t tell where I was. It was dark. The walls were pitch-black but I could see a bed without a mattress….
Gnarled are the trunks That rips apart Fighting for our survival With fear in our hearts Art by: ChrisCold
I am darkness The one who fell through time Pushed aside by the maker My lance a souvenir My wings a reminder My horns a promise Featured image drawn by ChrisCold