Jul 18, 2015
crepuscular for the blogrates, thank you c:
blog rates + poetry
“the winds that flow through the wounded sky - midnight at dusk. and the darkness of blues turn in scarlet shapes, a blood scented malady. the owl is the witness of the rise of all tragedy, the place where real beauty is born. the terrible, astonishing sight. love the daylight, but kneel at the moon - prays are whispered on doomed altar and from ichor-bleeding stars, not among the willowing grass, not under the sun. there’s a bold subjection in this kind of fear - or power, which is it, for centuries, has never been clear.”
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oh my god
after this comment and the things christophercarrioned just said in this post tags, i’m in awe and tears
