The Lust Cursed Luna
Not bothering about my favorite hairstyle, I gradually eyed the old page that had been sprinted with the dark ink.
“As winter's breath draws near, late autumn's phase seems queer. A strange time in life's sphere. The balmy zephyrs of summer, once beloved, now stir within you a disapproval. To the depths of the mind it leads, where shadowed memories plant their seeds, of the last few months it speaks, And in the heart, a sadness leaks. Simultaneously, it ignites a longing within to behold the splendour of snowflakes descending. Learn to shroud thyself in icy veneer, leaving warmth a mere figment to revere.”
How many times have I read this? About a hundred times or more. But the more I read th
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