The imagination of a child is a wonderful thing...
US remote-control warfare against terrorists in Afghanistan
The tale of Peter and his wife
The story of the heir to a fae kingdom
This drifting summer's afternoon as I lay down to sleep
Silvered Angel, heavenly representative
Unless the seed dies
It remains alone, as a seed.
Nothing new emerges.
Until the seed falls, dies
bears fruit, it remains but a single seed
I always felt safe within you're walls
You never laughed, when lonely?
I danced down you're halls
You saw every part of me,
When I hid myself away