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Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 12:10 pm
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The glare of snow-capped mountains, Basking in the approaching twilight, The endless drifting of the soft cold, The sky a grey yet warming space.
Lost upon the mountain's spine, The wind whipping up snowy powder, Coat rugged yet beautiful, A cry that could peirce the soul.
Slowly, slowly, desperately crawling, The night spirit pouncing on her back, The wolven mother, alone and weary, And only the new day for hope.
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Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 2:16 pm
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Posted: Tue Feb 06, 2007 8:58 am
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Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 9:46 am
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Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 5:29 pm
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Posted: Thu Feb 08, 2007 10:28 am
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Posted: Thu Feb 08, 2007 4:06 pm
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