

A BeginningThe pencil’s hollow scrapes echo throughout a racing mind. Tense and shaking fingers enclose it in a death lock as they try to record the sudden overflow of thoughts upon a paper too small. The grasp of a brilliant idea is slowly drifting out of reach like water trickling through cupped hands.A Beginning
It flees from a chasing mind, never caring to show its face again once it is gone. A whisper on the wind, the mind fails to hear it, and it remains lost in the folds of time.
Go.
The ideas are conceived in my mind;
They are born from my fingers. Thoughts surge through my hand
Flowers
Tower
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Reality Is What You Believe it To Be
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Dont judge me by my glowing eyes or by my unpure skin,
Dont judge me by my pierceing fangs or by all my past sins,
But Judge me for who i am today and the me you get to know,
Then who knows i might not bite your throat...
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Reality Is What You Believe it To Be
Furry Photos Pet Photography
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Stock Photos
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