Nissa13th

There's the smile carved out with the best intention. The wolf's deception, how it carries on with little to no detection, seeking out bliss's beholder with it's tiny twist. Holding onto a child's heart, the desire held by a gasping wish, until the last embers have diminished. These quotes passed down, written onto the skin... Oh how the scabbing over is only part of the inherited sin! A process percievencess as only of an infection! An adapation taken with a sour face-the question stuck to the lips - the dose not enough for the bitter heart-tied down by sweeten words. Maybe now the wolf's intention can be carried out... It's tired

Come slither and hither in this garden of mine. Watch all the little flowers wither, into dust so fine.