Cemetery deer.
In the misty breath of autumn’s gloom,
Stone crosses stand as guardians of time,
Whispering prayers in a tongue of doom,
Where leaves still dance in silence sublime.
The quiet hangs heavy, a mourning song,
Voices of past in the trees concealed.
The earth beats softly, where memories throng,
And shadows of hope in the fog are revealed.
Photographed by Briscoe
I am nothing without my tea
That's the only thing that makes me get up in the morning
I don't want to wake up if I don't have my tea
If tea didn't exist, I wouldn't exist either
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The rope is already hanging
The noose is tightening
One final breath
Eyes stare dimly into the distance.
---
I wanna go... and never come back...
If you find me...
Please...
Please...
Leave me in the night...
there’s nowhere to go.
My friends...
Dear friends...
Little shadows hidden in the dark,
A whisper that echoes softly in my mind
"Airiina"
She is like an open book with no words. So empty, yet still full—almost overflowing...
with sorrow... regret...
and a faint joy, tainted by the hope for happiness.
Like an empty fairy tale with neither a beginning nor an end.