The Distant Joke
The mud is thick. It clings to your boots like wet clay. You are a knight. You are the shield. The forest presses in, a wall of black trunks and grey mist. Your sword is a tool. It is heavy. It is precise. You swing it. The air parts. A branch snaps. A bird screams. You are fighting the rot. The rot is in the trees. The rot is in the walls of the manor. You are the cure. You believe this. You...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 3 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen