written_leaves: (writing)
I know you have a desire for death...
If you are weary,
Share our rest.


A shift in setting now, to that rather creepifying locale that must be crossed, an old water-filled battlefield with dead that do not quite die, from the viewpoint of one of its inhabitants.

The Dead Marshes
The foul reeds are my rushes, the silt my bed, the water, my shroud )
-

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written_leaves

July 2012

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