hum of voices from behind the wooden door open it once and be greeted by a vortex of black wings open it twice and behold a sight of sleeping swords tell me when you’ve had the chance to open it thrice
Tag: fiction
motes of lunar dust shiver in the winter winds singing their way back to the fire
the future is a thousand and more fishbone diagrams hung from silver strings and guided by cyclopean eyes mapping out the possibilities of a single mad act
the mountains part as the battleshocked titan collapses returning stillness to the lands
winter dawn the pale sky fractures and births a beast of wreckage
empty armour melted iron the cinders of prayer remained on the battlefield where netherfire locusts ripped through the armies of mankind
a fragment a name the fisherman casts his line into the void and pulls out the crescent moon by its horns
the tundra conjures its bare minimum a cold and deep state of freeze no ghost phantom or flesh can bear to dream in
little do they know how little these wild eyed huntsmen know that chasing phantoms is an affliction of the frail human mind
caravans carrying ghosts and lost things settle in the shadow of the tundra
elancharan gunasekaran 