The ink castle was erected in the midst of the swirling
Blustery white outs.
Reborn, to re-die.
Inhale, the time is fluently normal,
Catastrophe. Whacky expositions, and fatality.
She’s pale as the moon,
A glitter of silver to bring back her shine
Do you know better, when you haven’t the guidance to pull you through?
Well, sometimes, you have to become your own guidance. And fill in the rest.