We have come to the first bump in the road

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.

There are places in this world where mundane, forgotten things have learned to weave their own magic	all I want to be is holding your hand	If that wave comes	The words were ways of touching and made us want to speak with hands
It's 2 in the morning and I own the world	Silhouette made of wind rain and whispers	when we owned the world	A cup full of wishes poured into the sea
Why roses have thorns	Walking through the ruins of a fallen civilization	So the Wind Won't Blow It All Away	Born into Trouble as the Sparks Fly Upward
If it's "natural," why must it be learned?	One Canada Square	Here comes the lunch lolly!	In which the mountains are old and I am the ghost on the battlements
Knuckles	OL	Quonset Hut	Primer
Moloch	born again

Recommended Reading

Login
Password