All dreams fade, most are stolen.
Or:
A super short poem I wrote about the dark urge but can be read without any knowledge about baldurs gate or d&d. (or even read as written for some other character or oc)
(See the end of the work for notes.)
The flesh sings of blood-red flowers, coloring the water.
The bones tell of hope, dying in the cold.
The heart cries of loneliness, never to be cured.
The eyes seek compassion, drowned by whispers.
The living yearns for it all, yet fall by my hands.
Wow super small mini poem thingy I wrote right now in ao3 as I type this. Can it be classified as a poem? Idk dude, I was just bored and wrote
Thanks for reading this dumb somewhat durge-inspired poem thing :)
Kudos and comments give me motivation and energy to keep writing dumb short fics >:)