02-26-2013, 10:11 AM
You need not speak, my old scottish mother: just lay quiet and still.
Let the duck-down night caress you, let the black-breath breezes chill.
Death, a dream of silent transit, an ice-ringed moon in sighing sky,
is yours to grasp when you are ready, only you choose when to die.
You need not speak, my old scottish mother. Just lay quiet and still.
Feb.26th.
2013
tectak
Let the duck-down night caress you, let the black-breath breezes chill.
Death, a dream of silent transit, an ice-ringed moon in sighing sky,
is yours to grasp when you are ready, only you choose when to die.
You need not speak, my old scottish mother. Just lay quiet and still.
Feb.26th.
2013
tectak