She knelt upon a plank, plain oaken (sable cloak, her mourning guise), and sensed the breath of distant sighs, pale shades of pain behind blue eyes…...
This screed has nothing to do with the noble Neanderthal (whose brain size exceeded our own). it has nothing to do with' times gone by' (though who knows what future beings may think) it has nothing to do with anything… and even less to do with something… unless of course, you think it might…
The darkness, now descending, floods the city as it dies while shadows lurk in legions 'neath the looming Evil Eye. Its frozen stare envelops all, it...