Verge of the fine creepy village house, not a sound squeaky mouse, so little things came, we thought to keep and creep under wings attached door-to-door, the floor slighted sturdy place you’ll imagine, corrupted spirit walk through crusader hidden caves, five frequent pictorial frame on the legendary walls, ten darkest undead witches approached look, hook to the terrified smiles, even those yellowish eyes appear, super clear, fearless wonder, so many power in darkish ways, when the moon will be one reddish wine over the top
Written by
Michael
James Brindley
2-25-25
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