| Thank you for all of your support with this piece. |
Void

MosaicThe doorstep is cold from last night's snow, still dirty from the busy lives of muddy boots and shoes. Still, she sits, waiting, the wind facilitating her trembles. From her chapped, cracking lips is expelled a cloud of carbon dioxide, that dissipates into the atmosphere. Wisps of long, dark hair hang suspended around her, static with the winter chill. She blinks her eyes, crusty with old mascara, to shield them from a billow of wind. Still, she waits, solemnly. Her dry, cold hands rub together, the sunlight reflects off of chipped nail polish, senMosaic
King
You've got a lovely gallery. A woman of many talents
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In dreams, emotions are overwhelming
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May dreams be brought that I might reach
the gentle strains of midnight speech
and frozen stars that gild the forest floor.
[Cradle of Filth, "A Dream of Wolves in the Snow"]
--
toy box ♥
i just wanted to say how much i enjoyed your gallery. you have some great talent! keep it up.
~Sterin
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This message was brought to you by the good people at 'Sterin' and by Spam.
--
May dreams be brought that I might reach
the gentle strains of midnight speech
and frozen stars that gild the forest floor.
[Cradle of Filth, "A Dream of Wolves in the Snow"]
--
toy box ♥
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The problem with today's youth is that I am no longer a part of them
**Accepting Commissions**
--
May dreams be brought that I might reach
the gentle strains of midnight speech
and frozen stars that gild the forest floor.
[Cradle of Filth, "A Dream of Wolves in the Snow"]
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