The Face of an Angel
By Falconcrow In the 1700s, there was a cemetery by a small Protestant church in the hills of an insignificant New England town. In this village, in that graveyard, there was a deep pit hidden…
By Falconcrow In the 1700s, there was a cemetery by a small Protestant church in the hills of an insignificant New England town. In this village, in that graveyard, there was a deep pit hidden…
Where is she, of whom I dream in shadows?Is she a vestige of adolescent desire that consumes my nights? I drown in the memories of suffering past, while haunted by someone I will never know….