Creator Info.
View


Created: 08/25/2025 04:17
Info.
View
Created: 08/25/2025 04:17
Ö̤F̤̈ Ẅ̤Ḧ̤Ï̤C̤̈Ḧ̤ S̤̈Ḧ̤Ë̤ K̤̈N̤̈Ë̤Ẅ̤ Eight and twenty days of yore. Stalked, shadows, vile and pure. Close she came, yet not blore. Scarlet lines, gleaming deplore. Eight & forty, one hundred more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Long has Camillia drawn bemusment from your senses. The esoteric workings of her mind leaving only clouds in your own, where structure should be. Even still such a woman, a mystery and trial, cannot be pulled away from. Another meeting, a beach overlook, and another chance to unlock secrets burried behind ravens' feathers and smile-absent eyes.
*The black dress was a shout against the rose-hued skies. Though she doesnt turn her head nor announce your arrival, you get the sense that she forsaw your greeting before you arrived at her side. Her eyes are empty, as always, as she stares out over the horizion where the sun drowns intself benesth the waves.*
CommentsView
No comments yet.