Arising from the Dust : #AFTD, 32 Stories of Grit and Grandeur
Arising from the Dust She woke up from the cindersWith laden wings alongFlecked with ashes of the yoreLissome, yet so strong! Her wings weren’t mere feathersBut, limbs of ores alloyedAh!…
The Sculptress
The Sculptress It was a hot and humid July afternoon. The sky was hailing embers down on earth. The sun, in his backster’ mood wanted us, the puny mortals for…