Wren.Writes
14y aspiring author.
Wren.Writes
14y aspiring author.
14y aspiring author.
14y aspiring author.
Her tears fell in ravenous storms, blurring the ground with a dying ache. Clear rivers mixed with tanged, bitter blood- yet it looked so tantalizing still. It was marvelous, yet a horrifying scene that I wished I would never lay my eyes on again. It was good, yet bad all the same. In my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to be this way. What had provoked our end, what about our begin...